Whitewater Gorge Livin' is hard but I'm earning my way

Just like that, she was on her own again.

Bridget’s path took her north through forests, across a river, and now along the edge of a rushing gorge. The chaotic rumble of the water below was oddly soothing. Despite the weight that seemed to immediately leave her when she put Brecheliant behind her, Bridget wasn’t sure yet how she felt.

She knew the best way to cope with this was to focus on the present. The medic had no idea where she might end up next, so she let the land guide her, and right now the cliffs that dropped into the water were too steep for her to manage. She wasn’t sure she’d have attempted it even with four good legs. She’d follow it a while to see where it led and if it didn’t go anywhere soon, maybe she’d try heading westward.

She didn’t know what she was looking for exactly but figured she might know it when she saw it. When had she ever planned on ending up where she did?

earth cracked as a skull, its vivacious waters flowing unbidden, at times syphoned by curve of terrain. to walk the edge was to dare nature, yet it stepped unbothered.

while the amputee followed the river's flow, that spirit went the other way. they were bound to meet where the canyon gaped widest, the river below bringing up a rumbling gurgle.

Something was approaching. She didn’t hear it over the water but she could see it and stopped to watch, both curious and concerned. What the hell was it?

It was the wrong shape for a wolf, moved differently, and had far too much fur at first glance. Did it even have a face?!

Uh, hello? Her normal confidence wasn’t quite there, though she was more questioning whether the strange thing was okay than if she herself was safe here.