After the efforts of the past few days, relaxation is paramount. I've found a small set of huts set against the mountain wall. Three of the four are abandoned and the one that is not might as well be, for its occupant--despite my reassurance--is afraid of me and will not come out. Perhaps the armor and sword disconcert him.
This location is so remote, I have risked removing my armor and have laid aside the weapons, choosing the light leather garb the peasant folk employ. I am just above the tree line of this peak and the trees murmuring on the high winds below creak and sway gently in natural order. Staying awake long enough to cook dinner has been difficult.
A long forgotten rest tugs at my muscles. Coupled with the altitude and mental exertion, I desire repose and mindless contemplation. The last of the spiced tea is sitting at the bottom of the small cup, warming my hands and senses.
Tonight, sleep. Tomorrow, perhaps as well. I sense a large mission on the horizon, on the other side of this great hill.