Pitter-patter… Pitter-patter...
The wind whistled in their ears, blurring the vision before them.
The black woodland mixed with the white moonlight seemed like an unfinished oil painting. Tree trunks flashed past at an astonishing speed. One second, their vision was filled with dense undergrowth, the next, they found themselves in a grassy clearing.
As they sprinted at high speed, the blast of wind on their faces felt like a knife's cut. Osi could hardly keep his eyes open. Attempting to speak, a gust flowed into his mouth, making him drool.
He couldn't utter a word.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, three shadows flickered across the open space.
The bright moon hung in the sky, surrounded by tendrils of white clouds which rippled like water. The oval-shaped porcelain dish was bright, casting a soft moonlight onto the mountainsides.
