The travel was typical for Prince Qui. The sun was burning through his skin, his stomach grumbling a little, his soldiers silently complaining from behind, and the rest stops.
"How far are they again?" Feng asked as he wiped his neck. They were in the middle of the woods that they found to take shelter from the afternoon sun.
"We'll get to see them tomorrow," answered Bolin, tilting a metal tumbler to his mouth.
Prince Qui was never hard on his soldiers during travel. He was there with them—suffering. Also, many of the diaries of past generals told him that he should always have a well-rested group of men. If not, they could get caught off-guard, and they would be left as food for the wild animals.
They were not in a rush anyway. Prince Qui leaned against the thick roots of the tress and pillowed his head against his joined fingers. Also, he did not want to travel under the blazing sun.
"Didn't get much sleep last night, General?" teased Bolin.
