Issahil
My breathing hitched as I sprinted as fast as I could, weaving in between the trees in the forests, leaping over twigs, leaves and fallen branches and trees.
“Control your breathing Issa,” I easily picked up my father's voice from a distance and immediately started to use the breathing control technique he had taught me.
Gradually, I steadied my breathing, my feets still running and at the same time my ears listening, picking up every sound.
I stopped abruptly, my ears twitching at the sound of rustling nearby. Someone was coming. It was time for the second phase of my training.
A swooshing sound swept over me and I closed my eyes, concentrating.
I could hear the birds chirping and distant animals calling. But that wasn't what I needed to hear. I concentrated harder.
And
