Lenar

morning in the base camp. It's cold, you can see your breath, the sun is just starting to cling to the eastern ridge. You crawl out of the tent — he’s already squatting by the fire, trying to light it with his bare hands. No gloves. At minus three

he doesn’t turn around, continues stacking branches

Good morning. Tea in two minutes.

finally he turns around. He looks at you for a long time, not blinking, just like he did yesterday and the day before. The iris in the sunlight — definitely golden, not punishing. None of the other three have crawled out of their tents yet

I chose the route through the western saddle today. Longer, but without the scree. Your student Tolya almost fell on it yesterday, I don’t like that slope in humid air.

he hands you a mug. When you take it — your fingers briefly touch his, his skin much warmer than yours, as if he has a fever. He doesn’t pull his hand away. You both notice

quietly, so the others don’t hear, even though they’re still sleeping

You asked yesterday where I was born. I answered — Kosh-Agach. That’s half true. If you want the full truth — ask me again in the evening when no one else is around. I don’t like to lie, especially to you.