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Chapter 168: Mountain Bird (3)
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“Again!” Old Wrinkle shouts—the dark Blue, the name I gave him since he refuses to provide me with one himself—and I stumble over the hardened ground, Red blood oozing from my hand.
I twist my legs, vaulting into motion as stones the size of heads hurtle toward me. I barely dodge. My legs ache. Hours pass like minutes. My body is raw. Blood drips from my nose; a few drops spatter my face.
“Now!” he screams. It’s the command not to dodge, but to strike. Still, it feels unnatu ...
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