I stand there quietly then, watching her as she stands on the path. Perhaps deciding if I'm telling the truth, if it is safe to move upward... or if perhaps I'm some sort of threat? After all I have the higher ground, big pointy horns, and I'm this big tough guy! (Or at least, that's how I see myself.) After a moment she moves upward along the path, joining me where it is flat and less terrifying. I back up slightly to give her room to find her place and make herself more comfortable. She seems rather nervous, skittish even, like a fragile doll that I have to be careful not to break. (And certainly I can see myself as the proverbial bull in the china shop. Without a doubt.)
"Aye, I suppose that's a good plan," I rejoin the conversation, and agree wholeheartedly that the sun descended quite quickly, and it takes much longer to trek up a mountain than an eager beaver might expect. I glance around at the rocks surrounding the plateau, which is the size of a medium pond. It's not exactly the best place to sleep - there's no shelter, it's not comfortable. I grimace, thinking of having to rest here for the night. But she makes a really good point about the situation we're in. I glance back at the lass. "I'm Rostislav, by the way." I move toward the edge of the plateau and begin nudging around rocks, hoping to stumble upon something interesting. Such as, oh, a relic? "Have you had any success in locating this relic? I have been far and had little luck." Of course by that I mean no luck, except for finding others who have also been on the search that keeps me continually busy, continually traveling. I surrender to the idea that I'm not going to find anything up here in the darkness, and let my body sink to the ground with a grunt. I stretch out my legs, relaxing, and turn a pleasant gaze to the mare.
"."
