Aiyana whooped like a wild thing, twirling her staff above her head before slamming it down to scatter a spray of leaves. She vaulted over roots and hurdled fallen logs, barely slowing, her laughter echoing through the trees like a battle cry. Adrenaline thundered through her veins — this was her kind of chaos.
She and Atia crashed through the underbrush on purpose, making a racket loud enough to wake the Ancients. Leaves snapped, branches whipped past their faces, and still, they ran, never letting the eagles fall too far behind. They stayed just ahead, hidden enough to stay unseen, loud enough to be heard — leading them on like bait on a hook. If they played it right, the birds would never realise Yoa and Nova were already long gone.
Atia bumped into her playfully, grinning like the troublemaker he was, his energy crackling to match hers. It wasn't every day they were the ones being chased, and if they were anything less than apex predators, maybe it would have been terrifying.
