1/18/2025, 6:25 PM
⎯⎯ ♔ ⎯⎯
Warwick paced himself with each passing day, opting to travel by daylight. His paws glided over the damp undergrowth with the grace of a shadow. Moving deftly between the trees of each forest he brushed through. By nightfalls, he'd been fortuitous to find shelter in the thick copse of trees, where the eve could pass him undisturbed. Sleep came as a brief comfort though, as invasive thoughts intruded his dreams, haunting him with the echoes of a life lost. His life.
By a few days into his search for the Elks Crown, he realised underfoot he had gradually been ascending. The once-dense forest opened up into a higher, more barren landscape, with the trees here growing sparse and replaced by craggy rocks. Before night fell once again, he'd reached the foot of jagged cliffs where the mountains stretched upward like silent sentinels. He climbed until the cold air began to bite at his skin, and the horizon was painted in shades of deep violet and fading coral. Warwick surveyed the mountain and found a narrow cave nestled beneath a series of twisted stone formations - respite for the night.
Warwick awoke with the first soft whispers of dawn. The sky was a canvas of muted blues and soft purples, with the first brushes of gold as the sun crept over the horizon, spilling light across the jagged peaks. It was a picture of peace, just before the rousing of all diurnal beings. For a moment, he simply stood there, bathed in the light of a new day, feeling something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in too long: a quiet flicker of hope.
That was until he heard the sound of her cry. Desperation slicing through the tranquil air. Warwick’s ears snapped toward it instantly, his body moving before his mind could catch up. His paws carried him swiftly, over roots and precarious stones, until he arrived at the cliff’s edge.
He paused only for a moment, scanning the scene below him, finding a female of blushed pinks, of buttery ivory as though the sun itself had kissed her coat in delicate swathes. Her body was awkwardly positioned on the trunk of a tree. Panic had gripped her, her wide eyes locked on the ground far below, and Warwick could feel her terror in his chest.
Her disorientation was evident, but his calmness didn’t waver. He assessed the situation quickly, calculating the safest way to help, but he couldn’t help but wonder how she had found herself in such a state.
"Hold on," he called down to her, his voice low but steady. He took a step over the edge, placing it on a stone lip, his sharp eyes not leaving her for a second. There was no hesitation, no doubt in his movements. This was instinct.
Warwick crouched slightly, his posture unwavering. The distance between them was close enough, but he needed to keep his balance.
His gaze softened as reassurance in his voice threaded into his words. “You’re not alone. I’ve got you.”
In that moment, his focus was solely on her, the world around him narrowing to the urgency of her predicament. Whatever had caused her distress, whatever had left her here, wasn’t his concern. All that mattered was pulling her from the precipice - literally and figuratively.
⎯⎯ ♔ ⎯⎯
![[Image: 06-by-nopeita-dfbmyrt.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/MTMV7BG5/06-by-nopeita-dfbmyrt.png)
♔ Warwick has a visible meaty scar across the outer corner of his left eye ♔