The children of dawn run with wild abandon. They whoop and holler, shriek and giggle. They have races, rushing to beat one another over the tops of hills or dodging through the maze of foliage in some forgotten forest, striving to touch ground first. They push and taunt, shout encouragement, dare one another to run sideways or to slow down for even a moment.
They never do.
Dawn rushes on, vibrant and vital, and the children laugh. Beneath the laughter, though, is the knowledge of what awaits them should they stumble. For behind them, always, come the children of night...
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