Sawtooth Spire zweiter teil

mahler veered unnoticed from their arboreal racetrack. the burning mouth of the wind murmured against her shoulders in their churning upward flight, lithe body flickering palely between the trees. she bared her throat to the warm sun, and bright happiness gloried from within her. 

endeavoring ever upwards, until demandingly so. paws slewed on the first incline, but she salvaged her balance, feeling her muscles ache with unuse. phaedra strove against gravity with the thrill of competition thrumming feverishly in time with her pulse, until the path was tangent to the timberline.

once more upon flush earth, the girl flung herself on the ground and hungered for air. “scheiße,” she wheezed, and then again, "ich kann nicht atman” followed by a spasm in her thigh. "ow, ah, krampf, krampf, arsch krampf." 

rolling over, her shoulders squiggled and stamped the snow in a phaedra-y shape, tongue mid-lave across its cold relief when a laugh sought to levy wisplike ears. soon followed by that confounded cough. she righted herself, the word sieger ringing peculiarly. 

but like most deja-vu sensations, phaedra brushed it aside. 

arising, tail thumping, the wannabe-alpinist remarked: “es scheint so, ja? piece of cake.” her head lolled airily to one side, eyes glittering with humor. cheeky. “but... if it’s any consolation, for someone on his deathbed, you’re very quick on your feet.” 

and with a flick of her paw, she volleyed a smattering of snow towards his face.