Shadow Mountain Vhenan Aravel

he looks back, and the bastard is chasing him!

thoughts race. he intends to kill him, he does! fenrith knows it! gods, why had he run his mouth?! this wasn't the first time fen found himself in this situation. luckily, he was bred a slippery weasel and was often able to wriggle his way out of such situations.

he flies down the ridgeside, scattering dust and rock and ice in his wake, and eventually slips on a patch of ice he hadn't seen. straight to his ass he falls, skidding and sliding the rest of the way down the rocky hill like it's a slide and he's a kid at a birthday party.

ears pinned back, eyes wide. paws outstretching before him to break his fall—only to land promptly on his face.

ow...