Sven stared hard at Vlad, his rocky exterior rigid. Vlad grinned a gritty grimace in return. The sun was setting, and today, the thousand year competition would come to an end. One of them would emerge victorious and one would forever be the loser.
As the light lowered toward the lithosphere, their shadows stretched, increasing inch by inch. The first one to reach the fence line would finally be free from the wizard’s curse. Sven strained against his stoney surface while Vlad vehemently vied for an advantage. Second by second staggered slowly by.
The sun set, diffusing their shadows into night.
Sven sighed. Vlad vexed.
The together they thought “Tomorrow!”
And that is the tale of the Two Stones.
Or so the story goes.