Zacharias
Sweat rolled down his forehead before being whipped off by the strong, cold winds fighting for dominance tonight over the Quidditch Pitch.
A deep dodge, an artful taunt-- followed by a long and swooping 180 turn.
Behind him: the sharp clap of his green cape as the pressure cut their corners back, the roar of looming clouds overhead.
A small round yellow glint just there!, above the horizon line, 10 meters off!
Straight as an arrow, he went for the gold.
5 meters.
Racing now, chest leaning low into the broom, one hand outstretched as his own nails directly scratched at the surface of the sound barrier.
One more meter..
A deep dodge, an artful taunt-- followed by a long and swooping 180 turn.
Behind him: the sharp clap of his green cape as the pressure cut their corners back, the roar of looming clouds overhead.
A small round yellow glint just there!, above the horizon line, 10 meters off!
Straight as an arrow, he went for the gold.
5 meters.
Racing now, chest leaning low into the broom, one hand outstretched as his own nails directly scratched at the surface of the sound barrier.
One more meter..