Running~
Malatchee Mico
Este Nation, Tallu.
Malatchee’s lungs filled again. His legs stretched in long strides, muscles warm and pulsing with life. A white-tailed buck with the velvet antler growth of spring kept pace beside him.
He had been running for hours, and he was not tired.
His bucs made no sound on the carpet of pine straw. Around him, hundreds of thin, straight trunks reached for the stars. Tall longleaf pines scraped passing clouds with needle fingers. Moonlight poked holes through their canopy, dancing down grey bark and across waves of wiregrass.
Three ran with him instead of two. It nagged at him, the curiosity at how the third kept pace.
The land changed as he ran. Pines became grassy fields where cattle grazed. A red wolf ran with him, a big male with scars earned by
