Ocean's Breath Plateau john barleycorn was dead

He hoisted himself up onto the shelf, his hind feet dangling precariously for a moment and giving him a little rush. Yeet felt more alive than he had in weeks as he quickly swiveled to peer at the distant sky. The rumbling continued in the distance, until a sort of dread silence fell.

Yeet jumped at the sound of voices nearby. Whirling, he found himself facing two wolves about a hundred yards away. They were pressed together, though the larger, more masculine of the two quickly crowded closer with a barked warning.

Once upon a time, he might’ve hurled a cute retort to that command. But depression was a hell of a drug. So was distraction. So instead of clapping back, Yeet said, “The fuck was that?” and leaped– perhaps a little daringly– closer, revealing himself.