Post by Talon on Feb 9, 2008 19:48:15 GMT -5
The noonday sun beat down on me relentlessly. My dark hair was warm in the heat, and once again I was reminded of the wise choice I had made in keeping my hair short. I disliked the long and bedraggled look of this day and age. I was in a good mood, or at least what would be a good mood for me. I had just finished a job; a rich dignitary with too many enemies. It was a dangerous place to be. I preferred to keep out of politics; I killed, I got paid, I left. But I could not resist the opportunity to take a few detours in Egypt. It was a slightly unstable country, anyways, and the possibility of picking up a job was high. But now I was training. I had not trained in a while; I didn't want my basic skills to go rusty. So I was running. Running under the blazing Egyptian sun on the shifting sands. For once I was not covered in black. I had discarded my black shirt, putting it into my pack, and my skin was exposed to the heat once more. I estimated that I had run about four miles. Six more to go before I would stop and rest. It was just after noon, the hottest part of the day. A little extreme, perhaps, but harsh climates bred resilience. My breathing came steady and strong. Breath in every two steps, then breath out after two more. Two, in, two, out. Keeping pace was part of the secret to long distance running.
A shadow flitted over me, temporarily bringing a cool shade over my tanned shoulders. A thin smile crossed my face. My falcons were about. They would not hunt unless I commanded them, but they did enjoy the chance to fly free. High above they soared, and though I did not look up I knew that they would appear as small blots on the otherwise cerulean sky. Up so high the air was cool, so I did not worry about my beauties overheating. Flying built their strength as well. Weakness was something I did not tolerate, not for myself and not for anyone I associated with. Usually that meant only the falcons. I did not like to work with others who would hinder me. My bare feet dug into the sand, leaving small pits behind me. The wind swirling around my chest would wash them clean again within the day. I did not worry about being followed. The body of the man was gone. The Nile nearby, filled with crocodiles as it was, provided a perfect place to dispose of a corpse. No blood was left at the scene, for I merely broke his neck swiftly. The man did not know what killed him, or even that he had died. Afterwards I cut him into pieces and fed him by hand to the hungry crocodiles at moonlight. He would not be found. It was as if he had never existed. Five miles down. I was halfway done. Flicking the small beads of sweat from my brow, I kept running.
A shadow flitted over me, temporarily bringing a cool shade over my tanned shoulders. A thin smile crossed my face. My falcons were about. They would not hunt unless I commanded them, but they did enjoy the chance to fly free. High above they soared, and though I did not look up I knew that they would appear as small blots on the otherwise cerulean sky. Up so high the air was cool, so I did not worry about my beauties overheating. Flying built their strength as well. Weakness was something I did not tolerate, not for myself and not for anyone I associated with. Usually that meant only the falcons. I did not like to work with others who would hinder me. My bare feet dug into the sand, leaving small pits behind me. The wind swirling around my chest would wash them clean again within the day. I did not worry about being followed. The body of the man was gone. The Nile nearby, filled with crocodiles as it was, provided a perfect place to dispose of a corpse. No blood was left at the scene, for I merely broke his neck swiftly. The man did not know what killed him, or even that he had died. Afterwards I cut him into pieces and fed him by hand to the hungry crocodiles at moonlight. He would not be found. It was as if he had never existed. Five miles down. I was halfway done. Flicking the small beads of sweat from my brow, I kept running.
