One second she is dying, plummeting down, down. Then she blinks and finds herself attached precariously to the stone like a clinging leech, three of the claws on one hand barely wedged into a groove in the morter. She is unware of consciously having twisted so suddenly in midair, her jaguar instincts having activated on their own in attempt to ensure her body's survival. Panting frantically, Mara takes a moment to take measure of her predicament, feeling dizzy and nauseous at the view of the long drop down. Why, it must easily be 200 feet she's dangling from, a gruesome death waiting in the form of erect spikes and unyielding rock if she should slip. She is aware of the mean boy and Bodie yelling, but in her shocked haze she can't make out any distinctive words. There is only the wild rush of adrenaline making her pulse thrum in her ears and the snatch of the cold wind on her feet as it tries gamely to drag her from her perch. There is only the horrible screech of her nails on the stone as they tremble and slide another inch, unable to take her weight any longer. The girl gasps, scrambling with both feet and claws now to replace her hold on the seemingly smooth wall. She shrieks again as another inch is lost and the stone begins to flake and crumble beneath her fingertips in protest.
Tristan's pale hand comes into focus and he's shouting something at her again but she can't hear him above the blood pounding in her ears. It's clear he's trying to save her and although Mara wants desperately for him to lift her up and snatch her from mortal peril, she shakes her head vehementally up at him. "I'll hurt you," she whimpers, the heart behind her ribs fluttering like a baby bird's. Her mind is quickly shutting down from the surge of fear her tiny body can't handle and her brain feels fuzzier by the second. It's getting harder to breath properly and easier just to freeze up and hope it doesn't hurt too much, the seconds before she dies. She does not move to take his hand.
But suddenly there's a pressure on her bum and the weightless sensation of flying and Tristan's hand grows larger as it comes closer towards her face. Mara can do no more then blink stupidly, the cupid's bow of her mouth falling open. "H-heavy!" comes the grunt from the gryffon, the word sounding like it's forced through clinched teeth and it's then the girl realizes she's not being lifted by some magical force, but PUSHED by her own familiar. Wasting no time, she finally links her fingers through Tristan's and the combination of tugging and shoving has her toppling back over the turrets where fairy children and familiars land in an awkward pile of limbs, fur and feathers.
Breathing heavily, Mara clings to Tristan, both brown arms wrapped tightly around his waist as she stares with wide-eyes at the space she's just previously fallen from. Her pants are echoed by the three other bodies she's pressed against and for a moment, no one speaks as the severity of the situation is absorbed.
"I dropped my cookies," she says solemnly.
s t e l l e m a r i a ;
you were nothing but you wear it so well
image by CasheeFoo@deviantart
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