The Race
A light breeze blew across the plains. On a hill overlooking the camp Runs Like Wind and Lightning lay quietly under the shade of a tree. A blade of grass hung from the boy's lips moving back and forth with each gust of wind. His eyes were closed. His head rested on Lightning's stomach. It was a peaceful time. The only sound was that of the boy letting out a sigh of contentment. The two had been out running since early that morning and had stopped to rest before returning home.
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Chapter Three - The Race
