Everything a nomad needed for survival he carried with him. A fur deel, two bladders, one for streamwater, one for koumiss, dried goat flank, bones and peltskins for trade, and a thinner hide as a ground sheet to make shelter for the night. It is strange to set these things aside for the sake of a more permanent dwelling.

It is strange to feel Saikhanbayar’s presence here. The consequence of it.

The morning sun is a cold copper, risen now over the mount, but the winter air is still frigid and searing the lungs. Batu threads his way into the foothills, through forests of juniper and walnut to the high pastures hemmed in by stone. He would imprint tianlong and its people upon his senses before moving for the grounds of the dragon palace.