Mieris looked back at the darkening woods. "The Sacīkšu sacīkstes isn't won by the one who moves the fastest," he whispered, "but by the one who moves with the forest, not against it."
The race began at the Great Oak. At the sound of a falling acorn, Zibens disappeared in a blur of fur and dust. Vēja soared, her screech echoing through the valley. Mieris, however, stayed behind for a moment, sniffing the air and tightening his quills. SacД«kЕЎu sacД«kstes
Hours later, Mieris arrived. He didn’t try to jump or fly. Instead, he found a fallen birch log and waited for the current to shift. Using his quills to anchor himself to the wood, he floated across, calm as a stone. Mieris looked back at the darkening woods