Breaths grow shorter and steps almost grow longer, when he's beginning to fight the adrenaline. That warmth evening out, longing to push harder, go faster, go more. And he does give her maybe, four or five more minutes, at this pace. Weaving around people. Watching her footing to make sure that she's not doing anything that's going to be aimed for a crushing landing anytime soon.

Not that he expects that she will, or would, given the past. But he would hate to not hit the top, again.

When they aren't even that far into yet. Which is why he tosses her the equivalent a challenge. Glancing at her, and waiting until he's caught her eye, and then jumping forward. Throwing more force and speed into it and seeing if she'll follow for the moment. Especially since they'll only have until they hit the bridge for this before it'll have to be a break. Even he wouldn't take that at a run.

Not that it isn't tempting. But he's not actually into the idea of breaking himself, or either of his own ankles, on the eighty year old railroad track, that could have all it's own troublesome spots, already. Besides, it would be in front of them in less than five minutes as it was. And it was worth taking the sprint for it, and seeing if he could get her to play along, since she'd seemed to be enjoying it so far.