The Ways of the Paths
Mira ran, placing each foot with care.
Angry shouts sounded behind her. She gritted her teeth and forced her legs to move faster. The consequences, should they catch her, didn’t bear consideration.
She didn’t look back. After all, she was of the Bakiai, and the Bakiai always looked forward. That was how their paths stayed true.
She’d learned the ways of the paths as all children of the tribe did, pacing the winding routes through the mud flats at her elders’ heels – over and over – until each footfall could be placed with precision, even on the narrowest of trails. She utilized that training now, as she raced along the most treacherous path she knew. And she tried not to consider her pursuers fates.
All of the Bakiai knew the horror stories, knew of the creatures that dwelt beneath the fluid earth. Anyone who stepped off the paths became their prey.
Angry shouts shifted to terrified screams.
Mira bared her teeth in triumph. Only the Bakiai knew the ways of the paths. No invader ever would.
Word count: 175
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This post is for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge. This week’s photo prompt was provided by Yinglan. Thank you, Yinglan.