['we' might not, but Badou does; it's in his blood, to be running towards (and usually away) from something, and he won't ever stop for anything, not until his lungs burn and his legs ache (never take up smoking, bad boy, he'd always wheeze)]
[he's barely visible through the underbrush, the shadows from the setting sun blending his own away]
[but when he comes over the crest of it, when he finally sees what he's been looking for, unobstructed, he stops]
[it's easily one of the most terrifying things he's ever seen; great expanses of nothing, of space where scum haven't carved themselves into shitty little holes and shitty little lives with other shitty little people]
Re: action
[he's barely visible through the underbrush, the shadows from the setting sun blending his own away]
[but when he comes over the crest of it, when he finally sees what he's been looking for, unobstructed, he stops]
[it's easily one of the most terrifying things he's ever seen; great expanses of nothing, of space where scum haven't carved themselves into shitty little holes and shitty little lives with other shitty little people]