The pace, so much depended on it, such conviction, such strength.
Calls resound, through the coldness. wooded world…wanting.
The distance is nearer, the padded steps are heard in their canter.
His chest burns.
Such hinder the path, is there no end.
Quickening, as they close……tired, hollow………….spent.
Their breaths upon me now, the snarls at the shoulder.
What can be done against so much sincerity.
To do against the intent, so wilful, so purposeful……destructive.
He drops his necessities, the warmth, the memories, can it, is it possible to push a last.
They upon him now, the whiteness of calcium rips at the flesh.
No more can he run, his legs failing him to the beasts for their devouring.