Earth's Pull

The young male wandered aimlessly, not paying much attention to his surroundings. He was much to distracted to be worried where he was going. The spirits were calm today and it was almost nice to listen to them when they were calm. It was hard to decipher one voice from another, but the words he could make out seemed relaxed. They spoke about keeping alert rather than calling him useless. He didn't like to listen to them when they were in a bad mood.

He got snapped out of his trance when he bumped into a rock. It was large and had ridged points. It would be easy to climb but he had to be careful of its sharp edges. He shook his head, as though trying to shake the voices out of his head, then started his ascent. He dug his claws into the rock's cracks and hoisted himself up. It didn't take long or much effort to get him to the top. His bright green eyes scanned the surroundings.

The sun was still high in the air, the clouds few and far between. Multiple other climbable rock towers were scattered across the plains, along with small weeds and bushes. It was quite a peaceful sight. However, he had to keep on moving. He had no reason to stay. The voices get anxious when he stays in one spot, and so does he.

It wouldn't be too hard to get down, he just had to concentrate on where he was putting his feet. Just as he was about to put a foot near the edge of the rock, a spirit's voice piped up. Look behind you! He jumped, twisting his body around to look to his rear. In doing this, he lost is footing.

His foot slipped on some loose pebbles and scraped across the rock's sharp edge. He fell forward, tumbling down the large rock before hitting the ground with a soft thud. A sharp pain throbbed on his wrist, a sudden warmth seeping into his fur and coating his skin. Pnuma lifted his head to look down to his leg to see a gash, blood flowing onto the grass beneath him. It was small, but if not taken care of, it could easily become infected.