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It was hard work heading up the incline; Harlowe trailed after Delwyn, his short little legs working to catch the hill. The tawny-furred child couldn't wait until he was all grown up; his legs would finally match his body and he wouldn't be so awkward-looking anymore, with big old paws and ears as compared to the rest of his body. Already, though, signs of how fully grown Harlowe would be were showing; he was tall and thin for his age, and already the sharp, birdlike angles of his face had begun to develop. The tawny wolf and his companion finally crested the top of the little hill, and they were standing practically on top of the waterfall. Harlowe swallowed nervously as he peered down; he wasn't really afraid of heights, but this was the highest he'd ever been, and the tawny-furred youth knew sometimes he could be a little clumsy, like any other puppy. He'd just have to watch his step very carefully.
Delwyn spoke, and the brilliant eyes of the D'Angelo youth followed his gaze to the rock, widening with surprise and a little bit of fear. “Okay. Be careful,” he said, trying to sound brave—but really, he was scared. He didn't want Delywn to fall and break his leg or anything more important than that, but he wasn't about to chicken out now. They'd already climbed all the way up here. He watched, his darkly-colored ears folded back against his head, as the other man took a running start and a leap, sailing out over the water and just barely landing on the rock. The scrabbling of his paws brought Harlowe to his feet in fright, but he saw Delwyn regain his footing just as quickly, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Just then, the Zazkex pup called over to him, and Harlowe's ears perked up. Jump over there?
“Yeah, I'll jump it too,” he said, trying once again to sound determined. He really wasn't sure what to do, though, and he wasn't sure if he could even make that jump—but Delwyn had done it, and Delwyn was younger than Harlowe! If he could do it, Harlowe could too. He backed up quite a few feet as his companion had, his shining olive eyes studying the distance between his current position of the rock, trying to judge and calculate. Harlowe was not math-minded, however, and canines hardly understood complicated and high-level calculus and physics—so after a moment of hesitation, Harlowe charged forward, running as fast as his paws would carry him. Flinging himself over the edge, the male stretched out his paws, reaching to grab ahold of the boulder's side.
He landed with a rather flat-sounding “splat” on the side of the boulder, his forelegs stretched out in front of him, clutching awkwardly at the rock. His hind legs scrabbled against the side of the boulder, desperately trying to catch a foothold where there was only smooth rock. He felt himself begin to slip! His claws gripped onto the top and he yelped out, beginning to slide downwards and into the water. “Delwyn! I'm slipping!” he cried, no longer caring about looking cool—he was going to fall in the water and drown!
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