The crags of western Elysium tore past Sera's vision in blurs of grey stone and twisted pine.
She moved at speeds that transcended the boundaries between running and flying.
Her feet barely touched the treacherous, jagged terrain before launching her forward again.
The wind whipped against her face with enough force to draw blood from her cheeks, but she felt nothing except the electrical tingle of anticipation crawling up her spine.
Boredom was a physical weight that had settled into her chest days ago, pressing down on her consciousness until every breath felt like drowning in stagnant air.
The only thing that alleviated it was movement. The moment when she felt prey's panic crystallize into certainty and realized that running only delayed the inevitable.
Her instincts hummed beneath her skin like a second heartbeat, searching the desolate landscape for a pulse.
Any sign of life that could serve as the object of her attention.
