It was two and a half days, heading south, crossing over a thousand kilometers of snow plains.
The white snow gradually became sparse, and everything in sight slowly transformed into black mountain ridges and gray-black rocks. The temperature still tended towards below zero, but it was no longer as terrifyingly cold as before. As a result, with the gradual imperceptible increase in altitude, breathing became increasingly difficult.
The altitude is changing.
The desolate ice plains were left behind, and occasionally mice, packs of wolves, and rock sheep could be seen in the direction of travel. Among the snow, massive yaks silently fed on the grass roots beneath the snow powder, their dark eyes glanced at the uninvited guests roaring by, and quickly, disinterestedly returned their gaze.
Occasionally, one could see dark-skinned, weather-beaten herdsmen riding horses, watching from afar, hand holding a whip for driving sheep, seemingly always smoking.
Indeed enviable lung capacity.
