An excellent woman

The night air is crisp and electric as Carol speeds ahead, her bike gliding through sharp turns like an extension of herself. The city lights blur into streaks of neon, the hum of engines roaring through the streets. Eunice rides beside her, but it’s Carol’s movements that keep pulling Damien’s attention. Every motion—every lean, every shift—seems effortless.

From behind, in the scar, Damien watches, transfixed. Carol’s ability is nothing short of breathtaking. She rides with precision and grace, as if she’s dancing with the road itself. It’s not just skill—it’s artistry, her world.

Damien leans forward slightly in his seat, murmuring himself,

"Excellence is not a skill, it is an attitude."

The words, originally from Ralph Marston, feel fitting. Carol doesn’t just know how to ride—she owns the road, as if it bends to her will.

She approaches a hairpin curve—one that would make most riders slow down—but Carol does the opposite. She leans low, her bike tilting dangerously close t