Darren didn’t know how far he ran. He only knew that his lungs weren’t burning and his legs were still pumping at full force when Aden landed on his back. Darren didn’t even have the chance to put a hand up to catch himself. He slammed to the ground, the grass barely cushioning his fall. The air was forced out of his lungs, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t catch his wind again. But all of that seemed inconsequential compared to the weight of Aden on his back.
In one way, it was entirely familiar. Aden’s weight on his back was a common, and welcome, occurrence. But in another way, it was very strange. Aden’s breath was hot against his damp neck, and his huge paw rested between Darren’s shoulder blades, holding him to the ground. He felt the hint of Aden’s claws pressing into his shirt. He couldn’t do anything except remain utterly still.