His fingers were barely gripping the edge but it was just enough to keep him from falling. The boy scowled, narrowing his eyes to focus on his fingers and the rock ledge they clawed into.
The last of his makeshift springboard crumbled into a flat heap fifteen feet below. Raven could hear his breath come out in a shaky hiss and he cursed his body for betraying the fear his mind vainly tried to deny. He could feel his body's weight on his fingertips, as if he himself was standing on them, taunting him to let go.
He gritted his teeth and curled his legs close to his body but the resulting pressure on his hands was unbearable. He held them there just long enough to manage a kick at the cliff face that sloped away from him, before leaving himself to dangle as he swung from the edge. He gave an almost animalistic roar at the bolts of pain that ran from his hands, to his numbing arms and down to his shoulders.
But the pain had been worth it. The swing had granted him enough momentum to be able to drag the rest of both his hands to the flat surface of the ledge.
Raven paused only long enough to calm his racing heart. His eyes trailed to the rubble under him. The dust had settled since the rickety slabs fell and he mused how they would no longer be of any use to him. He closed his eyes as he willed strength into his arms.
When he opened them again, he was once again looking up at the edge he needed to overcome. The boy braced his palms for the pressure and dug his fingers into what little he could before heaving his form upwards.
A few minutes later, he was on his feet again, looking down the fifteen-foot-drop. It didn't look very impressive now that he was up there but with no one else to rely on, it would have been an impossible climb had he fallen at all. He scowled and turned away; he had a whole training field to conquer.
A/N: I felt a little nostalgic and decided to write something for a show from my childhood.
I really liked Raven then but, sadly, only in Chaotic Century.