By the time they found a decent campsite, Lidia was done.
Her entire body ached like she had been trampled by a stampede. Her legs felt like jelly, her back was stiff, and—most importantly—her ass felt like it had been personally cursed by the goddess.
She hated that horse.
The second they stopped, she all but collapsed against the nearest tree, her forehead knocking lightly against the rough bark.
"Finally," she groaned, sliding down until she was sitting on the ground.
Her cloak pooled around her, twigs and dirt clinging to the fabric, but she could not care less. Comfort was nonexistent in this godforsaken world, and at this point, she was willing to settle for not actively suffering.
Across from her, the knight was already moving with that same effortless grace that made everything he did look annoyingly easy.
