Blackwater Islands 2+2=5 (The Lukewarm)

Maybe @Akantha?

The sun had gone and the night was dark. All was still save for the rhythmic woosh of waves crashing in the shore break of the roughly hewn northern cliffs. A cold breeze blew in from the west, and the winds brought a bitter, angry chill. This place was unsteady. The tide was low, yet there was still a palpable sense of danger here. The boy stood along the cliffs edge and he could feel his heart thrum in his chest like a kettle drum. The wind caught him like a kite. He felt as if the ground beneath him would give way at any moment, and he would be cast away into the sea -- to never return again.

Whip swallowed thickly and he wondered if that would be for the best.

These dark moments, they came and went like the passing tides. It was a passenger he carried for as long as he could remember. What Whip thought most strange however, was that these moods swept over him for seemingly no reason at all. It had always been this way; long enough for Whip to feel like he should be used to it by now, but he never could. Fear danced in his eyes as he stared out at an angry, dark sea that threatened to swallow him whole. He could feel a growing tightness in his chest, as if he had been wrapped in a vice.

His limbs shook. It was happening again.