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+--- Thread: Redhawk Caldera but denial is my greatest skill, bending the truth to fit wishes of will (/showthread.php?tid=36336)
but denial is my greatest skill, bending the truth to fit wishes of will - Cephaloryn - August 28, 2019
It was simple.
He had ascended the caldera without much of a goal in mind. Perhaps clear his head or ground himself a little. Never had he anticipated what happened. The simple slipping of a stone here and there had not worried him at first. Land always shifted, shuffled, he could not afford to panic every time it happened.
He should have panicked when it was not a mere stone shifting out of place. A weak ledge, crumbling from his weight and the test of time, giving way to something more deadly than any pebble could. His paws could desperately grasp at anything but he had already lost the moment it began. He had never been a graceful creature and when a tumble began this high up, there was little he could have done to stop himself. It was easier to not fight against it. To take whatever the world had decided he was in need of.
Where did it begin? Where did it end? It encased him and there was no escape. Not even when he came to a stop from the fall. Battered, bloodied and surely something was broken. He did not have the knowledge or power to figure what though. In a weakened state he would lay there, sides fighting with a stuttered breath.
When — if — he would rise seemed out of his control.
He had ascended the caldera without much of a goal in mind. Perhaps clear his head or ground himself a little. Never had he anticipated what happened. The simple slipping of a stone here and there had not worried him at first. Land always shifted, shuffled, he could not afford to panic every time it happened.
He should have panicked when it was not a mere stone shifting out of place. A weak ledge, crumbling from his weight and the test of time, giving way to something more deadly than any pebble could. His paws could desperately grasp at anything but he had already lost the moment it began. He had never been a graceful creature and when a tumble began this high up, there was little he could have done to stop himself. It was easier to not fight against it. To take whatever the world had decided he was in need of.
White hot pain.
Where did it begin? Where did it end? It encased him and there was no escape. Not even when he came to a stop from the fall. Battered, bloodied and surely something was broken. He did not have the knowledge or power to figure what though. In a weakened state he would lay there, sides fighting with a stuttered breath.
When — if — he would rise seemed out of his control.
tagging @Vanity and @Vengeance for reference.