Zavien
The first step has his jaw setting, determination lining his eyes when he looks at Sol, the awful humming echoing through the open space below. The dragon doesn't appear nearly as concerned by the height, practically trotting along the railing, but he also has wings that will do a lot more to stop his fall than anything Zavien possesses.
The second step earns a stuttered breath, gaze flicking down just enough to confirm the placement of his foot. Instinct has him wanting to look beyond to the threat of open air below, only stifled by pure willpower that forces his eyes back to his companion, fear and panic fighting for possession of his limbs. The world around him is muted, secondary to the danger looming below.
When a voice sounds from behind him, it takes a second to register. "Huh?" His third step hits the edge of the plank, shifting close enough to the gap that a curse attempts to push through his sharp gasp. He swears his stomach falls through his boot, falling continuously to crash-land somewhere solid and deadly disguised by the mist. The blood seems to follow, a chill setting over his body as if it can feel the death before it claims him.
Zavien's hands clutch the rope in a vice grip, adjusting his foot firmly on the plank, scrambling for a breath that doesn't make him want to vomit. It takes more than a few seconds for him to be able to think or hear past the feeling of plummeting in pieces, the irrational sense of doom pulling at his limbs. But when he does, he swallows, vaguely processing that someone's asking after the golden reptile propped next to him - the same one chirping softly at him, worry glinting in the yellow of his eyes.
Swallowing the tightness in his chest, Zavien glances at the young man in his peripheral, unwilling to turn in case he loses his footing. "Oh uh. Sol?" he verifies before adding, "He's my companion. There's rarely a moment he's not next to me." An airy chuckle huffs around the nervous smile he plasters on his face, talking over his shoulder when he says, "Sorry. Were you trying to cross? It might take me a minute." Or twenty. He hopes the man isn't in a hurry to get anywhere.
The second step earns a stuttered breath, gaze flicking down just enough to confirm the placement of his foot. Instinct has him wanting to look beyond to the threat of open air below, only stifled by pure willpower that forces his eyes back to his companion, fear and panic fighting for possession of his limbs. The world around him is muted, secondary to the danger looming below.
When a voice sounds from behind him, it takes a second to register. "Huh?" His third step hits the edge of the plank, shifting close enough to the gap that a curse attempts to push through his sharp gasp. He swears his stomach falls through his boot, falling continuously to crash-land somewhere solid and deadly disguised by the mist. The blood seems to follow, a chill setting over his body as if it can feel the death before it claims him.
Zavien's hands clutch the rope in a vice grip, adjusting his foot firmly on the plank, scrambling for a breath that doesn't make him want to vomit. It takes more than a few seconds for him to be able to think or hear past the feeling of plummeting in pieces, the irrational sense of doom pulling at his limbs. But when he does, he swallows, vaguely processing that someone's asking after the golden reptile propped next to him - the same one chirping softly at him, worry glinting in the yellow of his eyes.
Swallowing the tightness in his chest, Zavien glances at the young man in his peripheral, unwilling to turn in case he loses his footing. "Oh uh. Sol?" he verifies before adding, "He's my companion. There's rarely a moment he's not next to me." An airy chuckle huffs around the nervous smile he plasters on his face, talking over his shoulder when he says, "Sorry. Were you trying to cross? It might take me a minute." Or twenty. He hopes the man isn't in a hurry to get anywhere.
The secret of happiness is freedom,
the secret of freedom is courage.
the secret of freedom is courage.
