Dragoncrest Cliffs The Moon Calls To Me

Setting: Night — 22:00, 67 degrees, cloudy and drizzling.

@Hemlocke

Sleep escapes Donovan tonight. He finds himself wandering along the coast, in the corpse of trees just before a steep tumble to ones doom. He doesn’t see the cliff, rather he doesn’t even know it’s fucking there. Without knowledge of the cliff only a few meters out he walks at a languid stride. Going no where in particular, he grimaces as droplets of water cascade down and into his pelt. He’s completely soaked, for he’s been traveling for quite some time in the drizzling rain. It’s darker than hades out there, with the canopy of trees above to the clouds sheathing the moon from any and all sight, he can’t see for the life of him. The only luck he has seeing where he’s going is the basically nonexistent highlight of some objects — the cliff obviously not being one.

As he strides forth languidly, he doesn’t suspect the quickly appearing coast that reaches his eyes. The stark contrast of the sand stands out easily in the dark was. He’s not sure if it’s a trick in the eyes but the beach looks so far. At this time he squints his glistening canary eyes in the darkness, still taking some step ahead until he can’t.

All of a sudden his front paw isn’t connecting with anything and his body jerks in an attempt to right itself as he almost flies off the cliff itself. Hind paws dig vicious claws into dirt and scrabble for purchase. A tense second passes and he’s backing up onto the grass and dirt once more. His breath comes heavy and his brows furrow at the effort it just took to not fall to his death and he finds himself snarling as he peers carefully over the ledge.

“Fuck.” He growls to himself. He almost fucking died. The idea that he could die like that just pisses him off. So he shakes his head if disbelief.