Does your nose detect dry bark? Dew upon lamp posts? You don't care about that. There is salt and sweat, that is all you care about. That, and the fact that you are nearing it. Pat pat. Pat pat.
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The wind whistles by your ears in your leaps and bounds. Your heart races. You strain to hear another racing heart. Pat Pat. Pat pat. Flop flop. You hear instead those silly long feet. Flop flop.
Two legs are no match for your four paws. You'll catch up soon enough. You always do. Pat pat. Flop flop. Pat pat. THERE! NOW! You leap. You soar. You POUNCE! A honk of a breath as it collapses under you.
A spray of liquid around your muzzle, practically up your nose. You grab a mouthful, you pull... And pull... and PULL! You rear back, tossing the red ropes up into the sky, but dive back down for more. There is always more. The red knotted handkerchiefs never end!
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