As the two wingsuit flyers soared into a mountain range of cloud-piercing stone spires, they began to chat confidently. The flyer in the black suit looked at his partner in blue and said, "With our skills, shaking off that guy with the propeller hat will be a piece of cake."
The flyer in blue scoffed disdainfully. "Forget catching up to us. He'll be lucky if he can just fly through these mountains without getting smashed to bits by the rocks."
The flyer in the black suit laughed heartily. "I bet you're right. That guy with the propeller hat is one hundred percent going to get himself killed on these rocks." But before he could finish his sentence, he suddenly felt a hand grab his heel from behind.
The flyer in the black suit struggled for a moment, then looked at his partner. "Damn it, who grabbed my heel?"
The blue-suited flyer teased him, "At this altitude, at our speed, and through terrain this difficult? Unless it's a ghost, nobody could have grabbed your heel."
