[Isolde]
I was running.
Running through streets I didn’t recognize, past buildings that blurred together in the darkness, my small seeming legs pumping as fast as they could carry me.
Which wasn’t nearly fast enough.
Behind me, I could hear the hunters. Their heavy boots pounded against the pavement, their voices calling out coordinates to each other as they tracked my movement through the unfamiliar, sleeping town.
My lungs burned. This child’s body—the shaman’s body—wasn’t built for this kind of sustained sprint. Why did I feel so exhausted from running when the spell was probably just an external illusion?
I could feel myself struggling, muscles protesting, breath coming in ragged gasps that seemed too loud in the quiet night air.
But I couldn’t stop.
If I stopped, they’d catch
