Moonsong Glacier you think you have the best of intentions

shit, shit, shit!
nails dug in to the ice, he was still sliding even while he was yelling. climbing up this big dumbass thing was probably the worst idea that he had yet, but that was among a very long list that was looking to be cut off in his short life. or so he thought for the briefest of moments—he got lucky this time when the sliding stopped.
and he hadn't even slid that far, truth be told.
his heart raced as he scrambled away from what he thought was a sure edge to a fast death, finding purchase in hard snow pack as he made his way along towards solid stone. not that fake icy, glittery shit he had just been skating around on, oh hell no, he was done with that.
fuck my life, he mumbled, managing to keep the quaking of his legs still as he composed himself on much more sturdy, life-saving ground. we ain't doin' that shit again, no siree. nope. this was a bad idea.
now he just had to figure out how to get the hell out of here.