Before either of us realized it, the sun had begun to rise again and we still journeyed on. The routine has long become a muscle instinct, so much that I automatically approximate the time left until Anselm needs a recharge.
Doing this, of course, means that I got little to no sleep through the journey. Anselm can stay around for almost an hour now but in no world or life have I ever learned or attempted to power nap. As such, all I got were varying stages of torpor in-between conversations and recharges.
Anselm was right; killing the horse might not have been the best idea. But we've made time, a lot of time in fact. We passed by a sign post that directed to Aste, Carbina and Ioina with arrows. This was a good sign of progress if any I'd say.