He was running down the streets, people ahead of him. They were playing tag again. He could feel himself smiling and heard them laugh. The wind blew through his hair like it wanted to join the game. He caught up to the first person, tagging them quickly, and hearing their laugh echo his as they began to run behind him, wanting to see who would be tagged next.
He caught them fast, racing from the side and tagging them before they could change directions. They giggled as he ran towards the next person, tagging them just as quickly. "You're getting good at this!" they called.
He was getting good at the game—he tagged another. One person left. He rushed towards them. No one could beat him at this! He tagged them!
They both stopped, trying to regain their breathing. They put their hand on his shoulder, "Good game. You're getting faster."
He smiled. He was and he felt so happy about that. He wasn't sure how to describe the feeling... ecstatic? He felt as if he could play tag with the Guards and win. Like he could walk into the Warehouse and out with the rest of the Draugmae and no one would be able to stop him. He could do anything.
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Fantasy- Updates Exist Sporadically
FantasyCordonalae is a Draugma, a race of creatures who exist to give humans the dreams they are incapable of forming. In his world, his kind are imprisoned slaves, working endlessly so their dreams may be sold to the highest bidder Outside. Cor has never...
