The forest blurred around him.
Every muscle in Gin's silver-blue body coiled tight as he sprinted through the undergrowth, vaulting over roots and pushing past low-hanging branches. His breath came in shallow bursts, misting in the cool dawn air that had no right to feel so calm. It mocked him with its stillness, like the forest itself had become complicit in the silence.
Only one thought remained now, searing and sharp:
Alice.
She was the last. The only one who hadn't moved, hadn't succumbed to that maddening rhythm at least from what it seems, not yet. When he'd passed her canopy earlier, her presence had been eerily serene. Eyes shut. Body still. Not entwined in anyone's arms just like since first day of his awaking from deep slumber.
Alone. And untouched.
Maybe she was resisting.
Maybe she was still herself. After all she was born from half portion of his soul, which who knows is how much more higher rank than others, of everyone present.
