Fanfic:A Friendly Foot Race

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A Friendly Foot Race
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The wind flowed over Arturs body to wick away the sweat that beaded down his face. He was in his element, one of the ways he felt truly free. One foot after another beat down on the hard packed dirt path his bare feet kicking up small puffs of brown dust. The streaks of gold in his blue eyes flickered in the bright afternoon sun.

He was not alone, two other people ran alongside him, each tried to pull ahead of him. All three wore the grey exercise uniforms of the Grey Tower. Unlike Artur they wore shoes to match the uniform. The taller dark haired women that ran abreast of him laughed as she overtook him and led the pack. Mira’s long legs propelled her inches at first then feet ahead of Artur. Orik, the other boy fell back as he became out of breath, his larger muscled body more suited to a war hammer and less to speed.

Images of Snow passed through Arturs mind, his wolf friend that guided him to safety years past as Hama Valon burned. Memories of them running side by side to safety and back again once the Seachen had left. A smile broke the concentrated look on his face. Mira may be fast but he was faster, he had run with wolves and hunted rabbits in the woods of Andor. A race was child's play.

Artur pumped his arms and legs, with every ounce of energy he had left he pushed himself to sprint as fast as he could. One hundred yards left, he pulled up next to Mira. Her brown eyes flashed in surprise when she looked to see him fly past her. With his short brown hair fluttering in the wind that blew over them and his arms thrown wide he passed the finish line. Cheers erupted on either side of the dirt path from the gathered learning ranks.

Artur was average at a lot of physical activities but running was not one of them, he was fast and could run for what seemed like leagues when others would fall from exhaustion. Unlike the other warders-to-be who were generally taller, more muscular men and women, he was shorter and while toned still slimmer in size.

All three runners slowed down and collapsed when they hit the closest shaded green spot of grass along the path. Sweat beat down Arturs tanned face, the last hundred yards had taken every ounce of energy to beat Mira.

“I was sure I had you Artur! When did you get so fast? It seems like only yesterday that you arrived and we all could beat you at foot races.” Mira laughed as she propped herself up on one arm, her long black hair flowed over the grass.

His lip curled up in a smirk, “lots and lots of practice, I begin and end every day out here on these paths. I’ve got to escape all the people somehow.” Laughter erupted among the small group. While a loner at heart Artur got along well with his classmates. Friendly foot races were common among his group of friends, a healthy mix of Novices, Soldiers and Drin. Each tried to one up the others when they could find free time away from the many chores and lessons they each had.

“Next time we are sparring or having a drinking contest! This running is for the dogs.” Orik croaked out.

“What so I can beat you in hand to hand like last time” Mira chuckled.

The voices of his friends fell away as Artur lay in the grass his mind on the past few years. So much yet so little had changed since he stepped through the gates of the Grey Tower. He still had so many martial skills to learn before he would ascend to the higher ranks. In the time there he had fought along those that harnessed the one power and ran with the wolves of the land his new brothers and sisters. He would sometimes feel them outside the walls when he lay in the grass on beautiful days. Always they would call out to him and wonder why he stayed cooped up with so many two legged. His response hadn’t changed in the years since he discovered they could talk. He still had to learn to use his fangs.