[ The person atop the Rhyhorn does not appear to care, even slightly, about the inconvenience she's posing. She might not even be aware she's drawn a crowd - if she is, she isn't letting that break her stride (or, well, her Rhyhorn's stride). This is what it's like to be a Rhyhorn? This sense of peace, of only needing to feel, to experience the sun on her cheeks and the wind on her skin? Of thinking about nothing, and yet being connected to everything.....?
This is it. This is what she's been looking for all her life. She takes a deep breath in. The crowd holds its breath. She lets her breath out. The crowd sighs.
She sits up straighter - then hunches forward. And the Rhyhorn
no subject
This is it. This is what she's been looking for all her life. She takes a deep breath in. The crowd holds its breath. She lets her breath out. The crowd sighs.
She sits up straighter - then hunches forward. And the Rhyhorn
begins to run. ]