She nods, waits to watch him start across, and then steps onto the bridge herself. Wooden beams feeling strange and fragile after the steps cut into dirt and volcanic rock.

It's really a matter of preparation and keeping your head -- and balance. Everything she's been trained to do, to pay attention to, and it's just crossing a bridge, but that doesn't mean that training doesn't come in handy, anyway. Step by careful step. No taking stupid risks, just to show off, and that's another thing about Steve, that people don't always get: he doesn't do the stuff he does to show off, and he always knows the risks. He does them because he knows he can do them, which is more than crossing a bridge and climbing a mountain.

It's why he's the best.

So she puts her feet where he does, each step considered, placed carefully, if not with the same timidity other people are showing.

It's not such a bad thing to catch her breath, either. Let her racing heart slow, a little, let her breath even out. Check the pull and tension in her muscles for any sign that they might give out, or hurt more than the usual soreness of trying something new. Nothing, but she'll be feeling it before the end of the day, definitely. Especially with this last run to the top.