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11-16-2013, 02:25 PM
I loved running, ever since I was born. Might be simply in my blood; we are a hardy lot, us tundra types, born to run and to race and outstrip most of our opponents, whether be another horse or a wolf or a bear.
Today, however, was not a day for competition – I did not even have a second thought before my feet were carrying me across the distance, by her side and close enough to feel the wind made by her body, but not so close that we’d tangle in each other’s legs. Today, overcast as it was and biting my skin with ice, was a day to simply run and enjoy myself.
And boy, did I ever. It had been far too long since I’d chased my brother around for no reason under the sun, and, well, we were evenly matched in all things – we’d usually end up tangled up and laughing until we choked. Gods, it had been far too long.
Maybe it was her youth drawing my own from somewhere within.
Maybe I was just bored. That was possible too.
At some point I lost myself to the racing, head thrown back to the wind and a smile – a smile! Oh, the horror! – crossing my face for a spell before it became neutral again. At some point we crossed the arbitrarily set finish line, and whether she won or I won, I didn’t even know. It didn’t matter; it was just fun, after all.
Of course, I still felt like a creepy old uncle but then; such was my lot in life.
“Thank you for that,” I said, because at least some politeness is required after you’ve run enough that, even under near arctic conditions, there’s a fine sheen of sweat rapidly becoming ice crystals on your face. “I’m Aleksandr.”
Today, however, was not a day for competition – I did not even have a second thought before my feet were carrying me across the distance, by her side and close enough to feel the wind made by her body, but not so close that we’d tangle in each other’s legs. Today, overcast as it was and biting my skin with ice, was a day to simply run and enjoy myself.
And boy, did I ever. It had been far too long since I’d chased my brother around for no reason under the sun, and, well, we were evenly matched in all things – we’d usually end up tangled up and laughing until we choked. Gods, it had been far too long.
Maybe it was her youth drawing my own from somewhere within.
Maybe I was just bored. That was possible too.
At some point I lost myself to the racing, head thrown back to the wind and a smile – a smile! Oh, the horror! – crossing my face for a spell before it became neutral again. At some point we crossed the arbitrarily set finish line, and whether she won or I won, I didn’t even know. It didn’t matter; it was just fun, after all.
Of course, I still felt like a creepy old uncle but then; such was my lot in life.
“Thank you for that,” I said, because at least some politeness is required after you’ve run enough that, even under near arctic conditions, there’s a fine sheen of sweat rapidly becoming ice crystals on your face. “I’m Aleksandr.”
