As he fell, he waited for somebody to say something. To say "Grab onto a branch" or "No!"
As he fell, he couldn't feel the wind rushing through his fur, but he could hear it screaming in his ears. He hoped that was why his clanmates were eerily quiet. He was falling, falling down into a bottomless pit of inky black.
As he fell, he watched the faces of his clanmates, every single eye locked onto his, their gaze so strong they could almost pull him back up to safet-
"I hereby sentence this apprentice to death."
He wasn't falling at all – he was sat by the river. Strange. It wasn't the wind he could hear, but the water rushing over the rocks with all the force of a hurricane.
He wasn't falling at all – at least not until he felt the jaws fasten around his throat.
He wasn't falling at all – he was watching the light fall away from him, gone so sharply it was like having the leaves pulled out from under his paws.
Thirtieth drabble! I have to admit it took me longer than I had originally intended. All good stuff though.
Why not leave a suggestion for a title or a plot and I'll write as many as I can!
Thanks for every single person reading so far, even if you don't comment or make yourself known - I appreciate it all.
Stay cool today,
Maplestrike B)