Redhawk Caldera kenton talks dead hikers

Oh helllll no. There was no way Caracal was going to question his longevity and challenge him to a race in the space of a few breaths. Killdeer's face screwed up with determination, and he rocketed past his friend, legs pumping hard and fast to propel him up the slope—

LORD, it was a steep slope. His lungs were burning halfway up, but he continued, even as his pace began to slacken and his breath began to come hort.

Almos'—there— he gasped, as if he were egging himself on, willing his body to make it the last gallop. Whether or not Cal overtook him, he didn't know. All he knew was the collapse atop the hill, panting, his vision blurred.

It felt great.