The second half of going round the festering dump of the Slag heap, was no better then the first. There was only one good thing about it, as Noth continued with the plodding of his feet, was that at least they would be heading away from the stench eventually. The pallid odor of the trash, burning bodies, and other refuse was enough to bring tears to his, blurring his vision until they reached the crest of the hill again and the first hint of fresh air. Antar kept his pace even as he unlimbered the drinking flask from his back again to take another sip every ten steps. In the state of distance running they were in hydration was absolutely necessary to keep them both on their feet, but there were other things too. He had to concentrate on his breathing, in through the nose, to let his nose hairs filter out the most of the soot and grime, and letting his breath out through the mouth. Each time breathing at a steady rate to bring the maximum amount of air into his lungs for about another twenty seconds before he let himself have another sip of water.
Once clear of the fumes, Noth allowed himself to tilt his head to the side and spit out the disgusting residue he could feel scratching at his throat. Glancing over his shoulder, Antar slowed his pace a little and waited for the big man to catch up before handing back the water flask. They had about a mile and a quarter in the last stretch back to the start and Noth wanted to push himself as best he could for the last amount of distance to finish strong before they went onwards to the next part of what they were to do today.