[Now having sat, however shortly, Kratos is aware of all the smallest aches and pains. Every step, however steady ... ish ... hurts. Even his hands hurt, a fact he hadn't noticed previously, thanks to scrapes on knuckles and where he'd worn skin down on fingertips trying to climb that damnable slope.

[He vies not to need to lean on Yuan at all, by the time they reach the area cordoned off for Yuan; not really a tent, so much as a tent strung on line to create a private area. But when they get there, Kratos has to contemplate how to lower himself in a way that doesn't involve his knees simply buckling.

[Oh, well. At least all he has to fall on is his cot; and he does, with a soft, unintended grunt of pain, and immediately slumps.]