Redsand Canyon to ever shelter your will

her shoulder dipped and collided with a narrow chunk of rock and down she went, dragging hide across the dirt and collecting red dust as well as shards of gravel and uprooting clay with her scrambling limbs; she clawed and kicked and fought against gravity as she came tumbling from her awkward perch, and yet when she landed (side-long with a huff) she was righting herself before the dust could settle.

hey—! called a voice through the clattering din that filled the mesa you okay?

she shook off, beginning at her narrow shoulders, leading along her serrated spine to her square hips; the blooming bruises across her body would hurt later, she'd ache and pine for respite, but for now the spider's adrenaline kept the pain at bay. her atramenous coat held a rust-red tone where the dirt had ground in to her coat, giving definition where she'd typically lack it.

with a tilt of her sharp snout she glanced — searching — for the voice — or whoever was speaking at her — and chuckled when the wolf finally managed to reach her. ain't broken, she confirmed (mostly for herself), and shimmied one more time to make sure, huffing a few times to clear her nostrils of red dust.