Dess intentionally held no expectations from Kelski when it came to the claimed kiss. It was just a kiss, but was more than some empirical experiment to test the waters of their mutual attraction. The Damazar did truly want to kiss Kelski for the pleasure of the experience. And while he enjoyed the physical contact upon her plush, dark lips, and it played upon the low heat generated within him by the Kelvic, the pleasure waned in the lackluster response of his companion. In fact, Kelski offered nothing. If anything, Dess sensed she was irritated. And, without a word, she darted off on the next leg of the run.
Dess didn't dwell on their last interaction, but was forced to push himself to match Kelski. She no longer ran with a graceful ease, but with almost reckless power. He wondered if Kelski had a competitve streak he had not seen before. Maybe she was irked at losing the first leg and was bent on winning the next. It certainly could have been true, but he suspected more. Kelski was like a fire, and sometimes her mood seemed to shift directions suddenly, like flames in a gust of wind.
Kelski ran, ran like a stampeding antelope. Her bi-colored braid whipped behind her like a writhing, headless snake as she quickly traversed woodland obstacles, so that Dess found himself losing ground. He took less care in his course just to slow the growing separation between them, and his bared torso began to show the red marks of striking limbs and abrasions from scrambling over rocks less carefully.
Then he wondered. Whas Kelski running so wildly to reach the goal, or was she running from him? Suddenly Dess' foot slipped on the mossy side of a rock he scrambled over, causing him to careen forward, his strides long and awkward until he regained his balance and pace. To have any chance of catching Kelski, Dess would have to leave his thoughts so that he could concentrate on navigating the forest.
He saw it happen, up ahead. Kelski went down hard. Dess was quickly upon her and passing her, casting a quick glance at her to ensure she was not hurt. All he saw was her balled fist striking the ground in anger. He could have stopped, but what would he do? Something told him she would be even more upset if he stopped. So Dess surged on. He could hear her tearing through the trees behind him as he hurried down the depression through which the stream ran, coming to a halt at its banks.
Dess had to double over, hands on his knees as he panted. Sweat had glazed his skin, and tiny fragments of leaves and dirt stuck to his arms and torso, a drop or two of blood oozing from the scrape of a thorn. His blue gaze lifted as Kelski arrived. She didn't spare him a glance, but went directly to wash herself in the stream. The Damazar straightened, watching his companion stand and look to him. Kelski didn't appear angry, she didn't appear to be anything. That's what a mask did. But her mask didn't conceal the fist clenched at her side.
The run's purpose had been defeated by something. What began as a fun exercise in getting to know one another had turned to silence and tension, traits that had pockmarked their relationship since Sunberth. Dess met Kelski's steely gaze as she quipped her offer. His countenance offered only the slightest furrow in his brow to hint at his thoughts. Thoughts of wishing he knew what was going on in the beautiful Kelvic's head.
He didn't care about the prize anymore, and she didn't seem eager to give one up. "Alright." He replied, meeting her gaze. "But double prize to the winner." Dess offered. He didn't spare a grin. At the end of the next leg of the race, one way or another, something was going to happen.
Whether Kelski agreed or not to his proposal, he would affirm the two out of three change. Looking around, he sought another goal. "There." He indicated, pointing through the trees to a rise, the last six feet were the craggy face of a rock. With that, Dess sprinted up the slope and into the woods. The muscles in his legs began to burn, pushed so hard on the last leg to try to catch Kelski. His teeth grit as he ran, darting between the thick tree trunks, jumping over uneven ground and ducking low limbs and vines. There would be no slacking to allow Kelski a boon, that would be an insult. So Dess concentrated, his mind assessing every obstacle ahead of him to best avert or cross it and remain on his feet.
Dess strove to inhale through his nose and out of his mouth to avoid cramping, but it became difficult as his lungs starved for air to feed his straining muscles. Kelski would pass as Dess reached a plateau in his effort, He surged on, but could not catch the lithe Kelvic. He mounted the rise valiantly, but considerably slower, scrambling up the last bit of rock to climb on top the rock behind Kelski.
Dess, reached out to lean against an aged tree, again panting. "Best two out of three, huh? I think your plan to win is to just run me to death." He tried to joke, but failed to smile. As strenuous and at times painful the run had been to that point, it felt good. Dess hated being anything less than his one hundred percent physically. His time having a broken body, and the long recovery to health, had humbled the warrior. He thought he was near his full strength. But feeling his strength wane as Kelski's remained strong sharpened his intention to improve his physical capabilities even more.