Pied
He ran as if his life depended on it. In a way, it probably did.
All he could hear was the sound of his own feet pounding madly on concrete, all force and no grace. Air rammed itself into his lungs and then quickly launched back out in a shallow anti-rhythm. There are limits to everything, and he had most certainly surpassed his sometime in the night. He afforded one precious turn of his head, just to see if they were still there.
At first, nothing.
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