Wind's pack pulled hard on his shoulders.

He leaned forward into the hill. The bottles knocked together behind him.

Muara was farther ahead.

Then he came around a bend and found the faded backpack lying in the dirt.

“Muara!”

She stopped above him.

“Your pack.”

“I'm not carrying it anymore.”

“There's hardly anything in it.”

“Then it won't be difficult for you.”

Wind looked at her.

She turned away.