Submission (#4113) Approved

He doesn't look down. It's the only thing he has going for him: he doesn't look down as he races up the treetrunk, at an incline no steeper than his home in Kyendi, claws out as far as they will go to grip the rain-smoothed bark as he runs. His pocketwatch was off and he's running late, late for the airship that will get him out of here, late for the sundown takeoff that will bathe the world in golden light before everything is twilight and Dusk and shadows.

For a kittom who can't stand the sight of open water, he certainly does find himself in Ealei more than he cares to be. The canopy above protects him from the rain, but stops anyone from noticing if he falls. There's nothing below him but open air and open sea, not even rocks that would shatter every bone he has on impact if he falls. So he runs, digs his claws as deep as they'll go with every step, running towards the port city at the top of the canopy that will let him off the island that's two steps away from a long, long fall.

It's beautiful, in its horror and his terror, the late afternoon sun filtering through the canopy almost as green as his Kyendi home, the gentle breeze threatening to push him off the edge if he slows for even a moment, the sparkling ocean before waiting ever-so-patiently to swallow him alive.

Lunarity doesn't look down, and his pomu rides holding onto the short-cropped bangs between his horns, and he runs up the treetrunks of Ealei in the desperate hopes he'll make his airship. There won't be another one for a week if he doesn't make it, and he doesn't fancy spending more time than necessary here.