Moonspear princes who adore you

Kindle was quietly convinced that he might soon die as the air grew thinner, and his chest tighter with the effort it took to breathe. He gave a surreptitious little cough, hoping to disguise the sound as just clearing his throat, and did his best to appear perfectly calm. Though he was alarmed, machismo pride demanded that he at least die with the appearance of stoicism, if there was a last present.

He still managed to huff out a laugh, despite that he regretted the waste of air a moment later.

"If I know anything, it's that the more fetching the woman is, the more like a man is to make a fool of himself," he replied, returning her leer with interest — if not just a little weak. The words came out thinner than he meant them as his lungs adjusted to the altitude.

The purpling sky distracted him for a moment. He gave the appearance of being distracted by it, at least, while he stood forcing his breaths to be even, even if he could not keep them from sounding slightly labored.

"There," he said, movement having caught his eye down below. Their pale pelts, while not quite quite, still reflected light well enough. He watched a pair of bighorn sheep pick their way across a distant ridge, tracking them by their silvery outlines and gray silhouettes. "What are those?" he asked, having never seen creatures quite like them before.