"That's it! I must have lost them!" he gasped, so exhausted he could barely speak.

–Sorry to interrupt, but who are you running away from? 

When Manuel turned around, he saw a skinny man standing on a rock.

–From the monsters. They ambushed me two days ago near the lagoon. And even though they wounded me in the leg—he showed him his wound—I managed to escape. I had never seen them before; they came out of nowhere. It doesn't matter, because I've been running for almost two days: it's impossible for them to find me.

"They will," he said emphatically after a moment of introspection. "I've seen it before. No matter how far you run, they'll find you."

"I am the fastest man in all the land," Manuel replied proudly.

"Even with that wound?" replied the stranger, unperturbed.

–That's right.

–And when you get tired?

–I'll be far away.

–But they'll still be after you.

"They can't follow me forever," he gasped.

"You can't run forever," he shrugged. "The question is: Will they get tired of following you before you get tired of running?" He looked up as the sun rose on the horizon. "You told me you've been running nonstop for two whole days, right?"

–Yes, and my legs are burning. But after a rest, I'll be able to keep going. Why do you ask?

–Run! 

Manuel turned his head and was horrified. He saw the silhouettes of the two-legged monsters in the valley, armed with sticks and rocks, approaching.

I told you: they will find you. I don't like to see the violence with which they kill—suddenly mutating into a repulsive bird—but, my dear wounded gazelle, you will understand that we vultures eat what they leave us.