Round 131

Seraphine’s heart hammers in her chest as she feels herself sliding inexorably over the edge of the crumbling ledge. Her injured shoulder protests sharply as she reaches out instinctively, fingers closing around a wrist offered by Jeane. "Fuck!" She yelps, the wind whipping past her face as she dangles over the abyss, held only by Jeane’s desperate grip.

"Climb! Use your damn feet!" Jeane shouts above the howling gale, her own knuckles white where she clutches the precarious stone outcropping. The ancient masonry groans ominously beneath them both, dust and gravel cascading down into the darkness below. "I can’t—it’s too smooth!" Seraphine gasps out, her free hand scrabbling frantically at the sheer rock face while her injured shoulder screams in protest.**

With a desperate heave that feels like it might tear her own arm from its socket, Jeane manages to haul Seraphine back onto the relative safety of the ledge. Both women collapse in a heap, panting heavily as the adrenaline rush slowly fades. "That was too fucking close," Jeane mutters through gritted teeth, her crimson eyes flicking nervously to the unstable stone around them. "We need to move. Now."