Ravenshook Cliffs ...ready for it?

The plain stretched on forever and as Towhee loped across its breadth, she became abruptly aware of her state: she was dog tired and footsore. Although she wanted to keep pushing, she found herself slowing instead, tongue lolling from her muzzle as she rolled to a halt and waited to catch her breath. X continued without her for a moment before realizing she had stopped; he banked sharply and flapped back in her direction, circling a moment before dropping and landing in the long grass a few feet away.

-Are we close?- she wondered, her heart hammering in her chest when X bobbed his head.
Reluctantly, she had to admit, -I'm tired. I need to rest a bit. I want to have energy for this.- It would probably be impossible to fall asleep, though Towhee at least needed to stretch out and give her mind and muscles a break for an hour or two.

She woke hours later, unaware that she'd ever fallen asleep, much less so deeply. Towhee jumped to her feet, feeling wildly disoriented, her fur tousled as she swung in a circle, eyeballing her unfamiliar surroundings. She spotted X tucked in the grass nearby and she let out a breath. She padded over to the hawk, giving him a gentle nudge. It was almost dark again, yet she felt wide awake and energized now. In fact, she was thrumming with energy so volatile it could be called violent.

-Stay low,- she requested as X flapped his wings almost experimentally for a moment before leaping into the air. He climbed as she watched, then began cruising northeast again. Towhee trotted after him, oblivious to the sound of crickets in the surrounding brush and the distant pounding of the surf that grew louder with every swift step.

She ran toward the coast, unaware of the ocean sprawling endlessly through the darkness ahead. Towhee very well might have run right off the cliff had X not suddenly dropped in front of her to stop her. He conveyed some information to her with a few jerks of his head and wings, then bounced up to assume his perch on her shoulder blade. Now he nipped gently at her ears as he steered her forward, giving a sharp tug to her scruff that brought her to a halt about twenty feet from the dropoff.

There was a silhouette crouched there. Towhee studied it, sussing out the details despite the gloom. She could now see that it was none other than Screech, his lanky body suspended at the lip of a precipice, his back to her. It was sorely tempting to simply rush him, pushing him over the edge, plummeting to his death. But Towhee didn't want to attack from behind. There was no honor in that and, besides, she wanted Screech to see her—and his imminent death—coming.