Then again, the last time I found someone normal, he turned out to be a time traveler like me. My smile faded. Uncertain what to think, I turned my back to the room and focused once more on not letting the pain cloud my mental thought process.
At some point, I dozed off and awoke some time later, curled on my side by the wall of the tent and covered by a blanket. My head wasn't yet right, and the pain of my arms was warm and throbbing.
The forms in the tent were passed out sleeping around the fire. Not only that, but wind pushed the entrance flap open enough to show me the sky was beginning to lighten with sunrise.
Dammit. Overslept. I rose and took a moment to balance before walking around the snoring, sleeping men who appeared to have drunk themselves unconscious. With any luck, Chaghan was among them and wouldn't wake up any time soon.
Stepping into the pre-dawn morning, I paused to orient myself. There was a chill in the air, along with a current of warmth that told me it was going to end up a nice day. The tent's entrance faced east, which I took as a good sign, considering the river was to the east as well. There were dozens of tents standing between me and the river, but the encampment appeared quiet, as if the celebrations last night of their victory meant everyone was sleeping in.
I wasn't fully steady on my feet, and anything more than a walk jarred my arms painfully. Wrapping them around me, I hurried towards the east, hoping to beat the sun's ascent to the horizon. The white-yellow strip preceding dawn lined the sky, and night was beginning to make way for day.
What I took to be a couple dozen tents turned into close to a hundred. I wove among them towards the sunrise, my step quickening as fast as I could tolerate. Not more than fifteen minutes later, I broke free of the tents and reached an open space filled with thousands of horses along the river I could barely see through their bodies. At any other time, I would stop to pet every single animal I ran across.
But today, I didn't have time. If I stopped to admire their soft fur or rub their foreheads, I'd end up dead. I did, however, trace my fingers along the backs or rumps of those I passed and admired them. The steppe horses were closer to the size of ponies, hardy and muscular with long, tangled manes and tails. They appeared to be well socialized; none of them freaked out or startled when I passed, and two started following me towards the river.