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reality. As he ran, he stretched out his senses to feel the forest around him. It was like he could feel the Earth breathe. It was exhilarating. It did occur to him that it could just be an adrenaline high from the run, something he learned a couple of years ago in his biology texts, but it didn't matter to him. It was still a magical feeling. Running through the forest never really tired him much anyway. It was as if he was energized by the abundant life around him.
    A young elk stag suddenly burst from the bushes as Steven ran and trotted alongside him. He grinned and grabbed a handful of the thick fur on its neck and let it pull him along. He used to imagine these creatures too, until the real creatures replaced his imagination and now made regular appearances when he was out in the forest. The elk followed a subtle trail through the underbrush as it headed toward a watering hole. Steven saw several others behind it and up ahead too. What was for Steven a full out run was a modest trot for the elk. They both ran through the forest until the trail turned away from where he was headed and he let go to jump up into another tree.
    These trees were taller and easier for him to travel through. He climbed up higher into the canopy and used the springiness of the branches to help him travel from tree to tree. At these heights, he could sometimes see the forest of the neighboring hills. As he traveled from tree to tree he would lose a little elevation and stopped infrequently to climb up and resume the course. He was still able to move faster than if he was on the forest floor running.
    The meeting location was getting closer. He picked up the pace as he scrambled from tree to tree. As he got closer to the ground, this time he didn't climb back up but kept traveling until he was at the lower limits of the canopy. While jumping out of the canopy onto another downed tree, he spied a rich growth of mushrooms growing up from the soil and detritus beside the trunk and passed several until he came upon some he recognized. They seemed to call to him, and he instinctively knew they were nontoxic. The poisonous ones looked dead to him, even though they were often very pretty. Field guides had confirmed the identities to him as he helped his godfather collect for the market. He grabbed several of the most succulent mushrooms, avoiding the older woodier ones, and stuffed them into his backpack for a snack later on.
    A clamorous noise caught his attention. It was not part of the normal forest sounds, and it was distant but approaching rapidly. Over the years, Steven had infrequently come across a hunter riding through the forest on an ATV or setting up a blind and cutting firewood for camp, but this sound was more familiar. He started running again, recognizing the sound of Brandon's dirt bike.
    Abruptly, he emerged from the dense thicket onto one of several fire and logging roads that crisscrossed the forest. It was mostly overgrown but was a favorite road for Brandon to drive along because of the copious ruts and dips he liked to jump and bounce through. Brandon would loan Steven a spare dirt bike and they'd often race up and down the fire road, jumping the dips and occasional pile of dirt. Steven found the stump that they always met at and jumped up on it and sat down. Someone had cut down a few trees in this area a few years ago and the clearing was just now starting to fill in with young saplings. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a mushroom and started snacking on it as he waited for Brandon to get there.
    Brandon exploded around a curve in the road and weaved back and forth across the road playing in the ruts as he approached Steven rapidly. He jumped off a deep rut, landed hard and sprayed dirt as he twisted the throttle and caught more air rebounding off another rut, landing unceremoniously by the stump close enough that Steven pulled up his legs. He excitedly whooped at him, then yelled over the sound of the engine, "You