Redsand Canyon peccatus

the imperator trotted around the inside of the sparring arena.

slowly his speed increased until he had lengthened into a run.

this would warm his muscles. but his mind did not cease its endless grate. he wished a spar but did not call for one. 

The redstone wolf had been prowling the canyonland when the sound of paws drew his ears to a point.

Arsenio turned to see the figure of Germanicus streaking across his claim. The shape of his body was strong, swift. The Greek smiled at the image. Their Imperator was a good man with a fine spirit. The mercenary did not ask if he might join the other – he darted forward until his paws were turning the earth beneath him and he was closing the space between his frame and that of the Roman.

A bark drew the attention of the grey-muzzled man.

arsenio, curving inward beside him. 

germanicus was solemn but his yellowpaint eyes kicked with approval and challenge.

he lengthened his stride and added a burst of speed, following inside the long and tight lines of the arena.

a race then.

The Roman was in a running mood.

Arsenio did not lack in a competitive spirit. He hurried his strides, crossing over the canyon grounds with paws that barely seemed to touch the earth. The mercenary could feel his spirit rising, though he did not know that Germanicus’ mood was heavy.

The run filled his legs with a tight energy that was relieved to be expelled from his body. Arsenio was pleased to run alongside the Imperator.

they matched their legs.

germanicus kept his breathing even as they rounded the curve of the arena once more.

his heels dug in. he swerved to the right, cutting arsenio's path. 

how would the redstone wolf respond? he hoped to discover this, with an amused snort that evinced his lifting spirits.

The Roman cut, a swift and surprising move. Arsenio rushed on, aiming a swipe of his shoulder against the other man’s figure. Germanicus was lively and the mercenary thought it enjoyable.

A nip of his teeth was aimed for the dark-furred wolf’s flank. There was no intention to connect, only a playful taunt, a gesture to show that Arsenio had not given up. The blue of his eyes had followed the motion of the Imperator’s stride. It was easy to admire the leader for the strength of his figure. The redstone wolf did not want to watch anymore.

Arsenio huffed, pushing himself harder – trying to gain ground and move past Germanicus. His gaze was trained on the path ahead.

there was a shouldering and a snap.

germanicus chuckled aloud this time as he swung his hip sharply toward the body of the redfurred greek.

he meant to check his affectionate opponent.

the imperator's paws found the space between the wall and their path. he pushed against it, leveraging himself into a greater speed.

The Imperator’s hip found the frame of the red wolf. Arsenio barked – his voice filled the canyon with a thrumming sound. Hearing Germanicus laugh was enough to continue his pace.

They raced through the canyon. Arsenio’s heart beat wildly with the speed they had set. He kept the pace well, but it had been a good deal of time since he had been placed in a dead sprint against an athletic opponent. All the patrols that he had made for Mereo did little to make him swift.

It was the thrill of the run that held him to it. The Greek did not nip or play with the Roman. He was invested in the movement of their bodies – a streak of dark and red fur streaking across the canyon floor.

their race grew serious.

there was another twist of the red hallways. arsenio's voice echoed off the chasm's edges.

skill was pitted against skill. germanicus found arsenio fleeter as the moments went on. he had become quite familiar with their land but it was quite different to be coursing over it at such a speed.

germanicus flattened his ears and sped on, breath beginning to burn just at the base of his throat.

The same burning had found a place at the back of Arsenio’s throat. He pushed on, through the war drum of his heartbeat, through the sharp intake of breath as he tried to cross in front of Germanicus and was met with the Imperator’s sleek figure.

The Greek’s tongue fell from the side of his mouth. He panted, but he did not falter in his steps. They were deadlocked to the end of their sprint. Arsenio wished to feel the strength leave his legs before he would give in.

they were evenly matched with neither one wont to surrender easily or swiftly.

like his crimson counterpart, germanicus meant to drive himself to the end of his own strength.

a fallen sapling loomed ahead. the imperator's hindquarters bunched and he leapt neatly over the bark and leaves, continuing their race but with less energy than before. his speed flagged somewhat.

Over the fallen tree, Germanicus landed with a competent return to his gait. Arsenio was a breath behind him. A rush of air was pushed from his lungs as his paws struck the earth with a great deal of force. A low grunt fell from his lips, but he would not allow himself to be delayed.

Panting and quaking from their efforts, the mercenary continued at the side of the Roman. His speed had been dampened by the acrobatics. The burning of his throat and lungs was amplified with each inhale. Arsenio would not be able to see the fun in more sprinting. His gaze shifted toward the Imperator.

he slowed. arsenio too had stopped.

their racing was over. the imperator caught his breath, drawing in large draughts of air.

his skin was wet with sweat below his fur.

"good running," germanicus ground out when he could speak again, chuckling weakly. "i could have sworn i ran twice as far as a younger man!"

they would go to the oasis now, he felt, to bathe and to rest, to speak in the words of men.

and then they would return to their wives.

Arsenio was winded, but he huffed a breath of a laugh at the Roman’s remark.

They were not so old that sprints through the canyon should do so much, were they? The mercenary realized that he was facing his fifth year. For the fortunate, that was half of a life. As he regained his composure, he thought on this subject.

When Germanicus spoke of a bath, Arsenio was quick to agree. He followed and soaked until his legs returned to their strength. When he had bid the Imperator a good evening, he hurried back to Tamar with giddy steps and every intention of sharing his thrilling race with her.