Thor had gone up the gorge at daybreak.

He was stiff when he rose from the clay wallow, but a good deal of the burning and pain had gone from his wound.

It still hurt him, but not as it had hurt him the preceding evening.
His discomfort was not all in his shoulder, and it was not in any one place in particular.

He was _sick_, and had he been human he would have been in bed with a thermometer under his tongue and a doctor holding his pulse.

He walked up the gorge slowly and laggingly.