It's canon that our lads like to jog through a graveyard… so why not on Halloween? The usual disclaimers apply.
Training Run
By e-pony
He slips, as silent as the grave, between the monuments and mausoleums – body twisting as he dodges, trainers skimming softly along the earth. Behind him, his shadow sprints and weaves, looming larger and darker in the distorting fog, but matching every move.
They charge up the final hill together, side by side, and pause as the sun begins to rise. The early rays gild the dew-wet sod and burn away the spectral mists.
The runner turns to face his shadow just as the form begins to fade.
"Next Halloween, Bodie? You won't forget?"
Not a ghost of a chance, mate.