Sitting on the side of a low, emerald hill is a small encampment. The morning is cool and overcast, and around the camp are many small yurt-like tents. Among them, horses feed nervously on the fresh, green grass, occasionally looking up with a snort, and stirring at the movements of the humans who walk about the camp. Fires are burning, and around them men break their fast, talking about what will happen this day. Women tend to the fires and the cooking of the morning’s meal, partaking in the discussion as they finish their work and take seats among the men.