Ravenshook Cliffs there's a second wind coming, as we lie here in our bed

An audience was watching. 

He had been following the shape for some time, intrigued by the way that they moved. With the coming of night Mesa had thought to rest and rejoin their path in the morning, yet he could not find it in him to leave the stranger to their own devices. Soon they were investigating a high ridge that begged for Mesa's attention; it looked easy enough to ascend, and if the darkling could do it he figured, so could he.

As he went, he felt the earth give a shudder. Where the trees thinned Mesa could pause and take in the sight of a dying sun, and it was in that moment he felt another boom; he looked out, down — saw the waves of the ocean far below, shimmering, reaching up the sheer cliff, and felt a sweeping vertigo for the first time. He hadn't seen the ocean before.

For the time being the stranger was forgotten. Broken bits of light cascaded across the rippling sea, blushing where the white caps foamed around black stone teeth, and Mesa was transfixed.