Marc shot along the course, the thrill of excercise completely enveloping him. He no longer saw the path, but he felt it. He planted his foot and jumped, pushing off a tree with his other, and pulled off a beautiful 1080 airiel and shot off of the high side of the track onto the path ten feet below, tucking and rolling to gain a safe landing. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. When Marc was excercising, everything, yet nothing was clear, he was at peace, yet not at peace, he felt the movement of everything along side of him. Except for Paris. 
"SHIT!" He shouted. He got so into the run he left Paris in the dust completely. He pivoted on his foot and shot up the trail hoping Paris hadn't gotten hurt. He was running at full speed now, frantically calling his name. He ran up the path flipping over rocks and hopping off trees to gain shortcuts, hoping his new found friend was ok. As he reached about half a mile from the start of the path he heard voices and stopped immediately. One unknown, and the other Paris. He smiled, relieved he was alright and walked over, a drop of sweat beading down his cheek. There was a young man there, with a violin talking about... Plants. Marc approached the two and said to Paris, "Heyyyy, sorry about leaving you behind there, I kind of got too into the run." He then turned to the other young man and said, "Hi, name's Marc, how's it going?"