“You slow,” Dagwood said, for about the tenth time today.
“I’m trying!” I countered, panting my lungs out. He was relentless in his pursuit for the pond of Illusions but he didn’t seem to suffer from an agonising burn in his muscles or the feeling of wanting to throw up organs.
“You move feet faster,” he cheered, somehow a lot brighter than yesterday.
Maybe it was the Lauweed or the fire? Whichever it was, he was bouncing through the forest like a gazelle in spring.
“It’s just... so... hot!” I panted.
“But I hear water.”
He could? How? I could hear nothing.
Oh, right. He didn’t have his heartbeat pounding in his ears. That probably helped with hearing things.
“We go this way.”
Without waiting for a response, he set back in motion and charged through the trees.
“Oh, for f**k’s
