Reynold's breathing was becoming fast that each one of the breath felt hard and his throat was becoming dry. His legs were also aching and ready to give up, but he kept running and throwing himself up the hard and rocky face of the mountain.
He jumped from one high stone to the next, his boots catching on the slippery, mossy top of the mountain. He did not even dare to look down but only forward. The big spaces between the cliffs and the thoughs of locking down and falling over was scaring the hell out of Reynold.
Thump-Thump-Thump.
This one was not his fast breathing or his his heart rasing but it was the loud beat of wings right behind him. He quickly looked back to see how close they were.
It was the same dragons. Black, dark red, and brown.
