Tim's tired. He can feel the strain in his shoulders and biceps, calves starting to ache with every step taken. Tired, but not winded. It's conditioning. An exercise in physical and mental stamina. This is not running multiple miles with seventy-five pounds on his back, nor is it a vertical climb up a cliff face in 115 degree dry heat.

In the grand scheme of things, this is simple. Especially with a second set of arms and legs. They've got maybe a quarter of a mile left, no need for a break unless his present company can't keep up.

His gaze cuts to the side, looking past the aura at the other Tim. The corners of his mouth twitch with the suggestion of amusement. His aura dances with much more than a suggestion. He shakes his head.

"You can call me Big Tim. You'll be Little Tim. Easy."

Is he trolling? Being serious? Both can be true.