It was good to know that the correct way of things hadn't been altered too drastically. As Sephiroth strode confidently away from Angeal with each of his longer, quicker foot falls he couldn't help but feel that familiar swell of his pride returning. He had always been the quickest out of the two of them, and proving it was something he had always enjoyed.
Though as the sprint went on and rapid breaths became heavier it seemed his comrade had managed to catch up to him, even had managed to overtake him by a couple of strides for which Sephiroth found it took more effort to force his body to pick up the pace than what he remembered having to press on with before. It had to be all that food and lapse in his training, but really, a devolution of his fitness that fast? He was supposed to be Mako-enhanced, it was supposed to be easier than this.
Still, Angeal seemed to tire quicker still than he did and so he drew a sharp breath in with which to finish the last stretch to the front of his house. Effectively winning their race. Though, as soon as he stopped running the world narrowed down to his heaving breath as it raced with his pulse to reset him back to baseline and Sephiroth found he was bent over with one hand on his knee, the other arm clutching around his middle - that troublesome right side that he'd landed on naturally was the first to stitch up.
Just what was going on? This recovery was taking much too long. Spencer had been the first to enter the house and retrieve a glass of water which he was quietly waiting for Sephiroth to take. Once he'd caught his breath, that is.
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Though as the sprint went on and rapid breaths became heavier it seemed his comrade had managed to catch up to him, even had managed to overtake him by a couple of strides for which Sephiroth found it took more effort to force his body to pick up the pace than what he remembered having to press on with before. It had to be all that food and lapse in his training, but really, a devolution of his fitness that fast? He was supposed to be Mako-enhanced, it was supposed to be easier than this.
Still, Angeal seemed to tire quicker still than he did and so he drew a sharp breath in with which to finish the last stretch to the front of his house. Effectively winning their race. Though, as soon as he stopped running the world narrowed down to his heaving breath as it raced with his pulse to reset him back to baseline and Sephiroth found he was bent over with one hand on his knee, the other arm clutching around his middle - that troublesome right side that he'd landed on naturally was the first to stitch up.
Just what was going on? This recovery was taking much too long. Spencer had been the first to enter the house and retrieve a glass of water which he was quietly waiting for Sephiroth to take. Once he'd caught his breath, that is.