I crouch, lithe, alert, waiting. My supple limbs are coiled, tense. I am ready to flee, should that need to be. I am aware of no sound, Merely the pulse in the temples of my head. Sweat pours from every pore, as I know that I am surrounded by my enemies. Suddenly, a shot is fired. I am away! Explosion of power! I am running. Desperately taking myself further from That terrible sound. It is all over. I won the race. I acknowledge the cheers of my adoring crowd. The drug of relief flows through my craving veins. I savour the warm flavour of victory. Far away, a shot is fired. My brother cannot get away! He is falling. One more desperate victim, where the battlefields ring out with that terrible sound.