road to transformation

Gil would be the first to gladly admit that he was not made for endurance. Fighting? sure. He could do stints of pushed energy to over power his foe. But racing? The strain on his poorly healed bone breaks and tight muscles was beginning to burn and itch. And though Modesty suppressed her coughs, Gil still worried for her. When had they grown so old?

Determined to catch up to her, Gil pushes forward anyway. Chasing after her through the slave corridors, up and then down, and around a few turns. When the fresh air hits him, he smiles a bit larger. If he could get to her out in the open, this chase would turn into some far easier. Through another corridor he goes, hot on her heels when the light of the moon opens up to them. Bursting into the night air, Gil reaches forward...