[Viskyia Crow]

He was smart. She noticed it right off the bat. He didn’t try to push himself past his limit, but seemed to know where that limit was and when he reached it, he began to slow. He also didn’t fill silence with endless random noise like some people did. They were here to work, and as she set off in another sprint, she decided she would enjoy his companionship.

“I like your answer. Not many people would admit running away can be better than standing and fighting. I think it takes a whole different kind of courage to not stand down your enemies, but to turn, escape, and be able to fight another day.” She hoped she sounded brave. Everyone wanted to be able to be the best at things: the fastest runner, the strongest warrior, the smartest scholar. She was no exception. The problem was, there was very little she knew about in life. The only thing she could really do was cut gems and make beautiful things. Even her skills therein were still being honed, and there was far more to still learn than she’d ever probably even imagined.

Viskyia glanced over at him when he made the comment “I’m AM human.”

“That’s odd. You look like a Dzie to me.” She responded. “There are too many monsters in the world walking around in human and elven forms for my liking. What they are has nothing to do with what they look like. It’s nice to meet someone who doesn’t mind taking a run with a stranger, and taking a chance on giving them the benefit of the doubt, especially in this town. Nexus Prime seems a little rough at times. It seems to me a lot of people want to put too many labels on which they are. ‘I’m elven!’ or ‘I’m Human.’ Why can’t we just be a Dzie or a Viskyia? I want to let my name represent who and what I am, not the shape of my ears or the color of my skin. I shouldn’t have said you run like a human. Most people, no matter what race they are, don’t know how to run or even how to move. It has nothing to do with their blood. I recently met a half-orc that moved more gracefully than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“You need new boots.” She added the last thought as almost an afterthought. She wasn’t being critical, they just looked stiff and like they were going to hurt his feet after he ran a while. She glanced down at her softer elven made ankle-height boots. She wondered if it would be hard to find a pair like them around town, but the thought was interrupted by the stitch in her side and the burning in her lungs.

She pulled up huffing. They were close to the coliseum and she wondered how open he’d be to sprinting up and down the steps now that they were good and warmed up. “Would you tell me how you got burned?” She asked softly, curiosity getting the better of her.