The night wore on, and Gerald walked beside the horse. He had barely stopped since leaving the city that evening, and the horse desperately needed a break. 'If only this was a skeletal horse.' He pined in his brain. He knew better than to say that out loud, however. The Skeletal commander was about, and if it heard him it would take the order literally and just kill Annabeth so he could raise himself a steed. As the horse was about to its breaking point, Gerald stopped the column again, this time allowing the tired animal to rest for a longer time.
"We don't have time for these delays." The skeletal commander said as Gerald let the horse roam for a moment before it stood prone on the ground asleep. The skeletal group stood at the ready to move at their commander's, or the Necromancer's whim.
Gerald turned back to the skeleton, "Even the durability of skeletons is tested by a long march."
