Redsand Canyon peccatus

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.