Cerebella: En Passant Oak branches and pine boughs whipped by at a blazing speed, lashing out and grabbing at stray bits of loose clothing as the Pink Lightning raced by. The dense cold air whistled by as the thin snow cover on the ground was torn up and sprayed out in an icy rooster tail behind the blurred shape of a sprinting man. Birds ruffled their feathers in shock and leaves whipped off their moorings as the wake of wind ripped past in the arctic dawn. He always relished the feel of the speed, the biting knives of wind tugging at his hair and filling his eyes with tears when he ran never disappointed him. Nothing more than sprinting through the gray morni
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