Blackbeak Bluff arachnophobia has left the chat

the woman liked the sea. 
the crash of waves against rock was a steady drumbeat below, and the woman stood poised near the edge of the steep drop off, watching with detached interest a wet bundle of fur that was thrown up against the cliffs every few heartbeats. the wet sound of it impacting the unyeilding rock was barely discernable against the din, and she listened for it carefully. 

she'd left the sunspire shortly after the move; she'd pledged herself to the mountain, and when Rannoch stepped down, her presence had gradually diminished until she'd wandered east. there was no more sense in forcing a square peg into a round hole, in any case, and she savoured the freedom to do entirely as she wished. she'd left adolescence alone, with no one to please and not attempting to conform to any one whim. she simply was.

the mass clung to the cliff and held, appearing to find some semblance of a resting place among the rock.

@Vaati