The vagabonds are departing in a few days. This is my very last chance to learn flight, or alternatively, I could conserve my energy to last on the island longer. That said, I don't think there's much point in staying alive for longer will increase my chances of survival, since no matter how much energy I conserve, I can't imagine lasting any longer than seven years.
*This place will do* I nodded and glanced around the area.
It was a place where the vagabonds would cut down plants and animals for consumption, which resulted in the whole area being washed over with water over time. Now it's just a barren field with tree stumps and lots of space.
And space is exactly what I need.
I stood in the very center of the surprisingly round field and dug my feet into the ground. Well, "feet" might be a bit of an exaggeration. The ends of our legs don't have joints and toes. Instead, we have something that resembled the feet of an insect - thin, sturdy, black rods with sharp tips.
Now, insects are lucky to have at least two pairs of those legs, and some have hundreds. I, on the other hand, only have one pair of legs to work with, so the weight spread is very uneven.
Sprinting is exactly what I'm working on right now. The elders use their metal leg pieces to assist their movement in various ways, but I don't have such luxury yet.
My eyes fixed on the closest tree to me, around 400 meters away.
I leaned forward, not supporting my body's weight and letting myself fall. I felt my body lean closer and closer to the ground. If I don't time this right, I'll end up smashing my face against it. Not yet. Just a bit more.. now!
My right foot, which was raised above the ground, slammed into the mud below, sending my whole body forward at a huge speed.
The force of the leap was imbalanced since I launched myself using primarily one side of the body, so my mid-air motion was that of a corkscrew. A barrel roll, basically.
Bringing my arms in, the spinning speed massively increased, giving me a small range boost before I would inevitably start slowing down.
At the same time, I've reshaped the blades to one that reminded me of the human rake or a bird's claw.
After a few spins, I swiftly brought my arms back out just in time for the "claws" to stab into the ground below, and, redirecting the momentum from my barrel rolls to the blades, I was able to give myself another massive push forward.
With this push, I stayed airborne for a little longer; enough time t get my legs into position. As soon as I got close enough to the ground, I took a quick but light step forward, followed by another one.
*Let's fucking goo!* I happily thought as I ran across the ground at a massive speed.
This was my first ever successful attempt at sprinting, and damn, it felt good.
Three more seconds and I made it to the tree. To stop the motion, I once again dug my blades - still shaped like claws - into the ground. These acted as my brakes and acceleration at the same time.
Man, was this hard to do. So many tiny things I had to perfect just to be able to run without sinking or breaking my joints against the ground, but this was hella worth it. I now understand why the experience vagabonds always went through the effort of running even when they could just as well walk the distance.
It's really fun. The wind blowing against your face, the barrel rolls, and, most importantly, the insane speed. To be able to cover 400 meters in less than 8 seconds is really quite the feat. Better yet, I have lots of room for improvement. These moves can be refined to perfection, and I would potentially sprint several times faster.
But those are just my dreams. After all, I don't even expect to survive for much longer than I already have.