Dragoncrest Cliffs Cut me loose

She couldn't decide which looked stormier: the sea or the sky. From her perch on the sheer, windswept cliff, everything looked gray and turbulent. The waters below boiled, the steel depths disrupted by a choppy white froth. Overhead, the clouds raced across a backdrop leeched entirely of color. There was a bite to the breeze which pushed against her, salty and bracing. Against the distant horizon, Wildfire saw a quick flash as lightning split the sea.

April showers bring May flowers, the she-wolf thought inanely, her gaze dropping to the beach below. Were she a more graceful creature, she might have picked her way down there, maybe even waded into the rough surf. But chances were she would only break her neck, so Wildfire stayed glued to her high-up roost, opening her mouth wide to let the cool wind steal the breath from her lungs.