The wind whips down the face of Shadow Butte, sharp as broken glass and laced with ash. You cling to the narrow ledge beneath your boots, one hand pressed against the stone wall to steady yourself. The climb has been brutal, steep, exposed, and lined with loose rock that seems to crumble if you so much as breathe too hard. The smoke is thinner up here, but the silence is thicker. There's no birdsong, no insects. Just the distant whispering groan of scorched pines swaying in the wind. You're almost ready to turn back when you spot movement above you. You squint against the glare of the smoke-filtered sun and catch sight of him. A Chestnut Frame Stallion standing frozen on a ledge barely wide enough for all 4 feet to fit on. He must’ve climbed too high, panicked, and now he’s trapped with nothing but air and stone on either side. You speak softly as you edge closer. The stallions ears twitch nervously, but he doesn’t bolt. When you finally reach him, you press your body to the wall and offer your hand. After a long moment, he leans toward you, and together you begin the slow descent back to safety.
Steady Rain all Day
