We move at a brisk trot all throughout the day with no rest, not even for water; another honourguard carried the water supply on a cart, and had us drink as we moved. For me, this was nothing: I’ve covered more ground at faster speeds before. Not unexpectedly, the mare once again whined, complained, and slowed down, only to be yelled at by another guard to keep moving. The mountain stallion wasn’t doing well either, but was pushing himself to keep going, and made much more reasonable requests for more water, which were obliged. It was fairly obvious he was trying to catch my eye by trying to act tough. I remained unresponsive.