He had been n some very odd and unsettling situations, but he had never been yanked off the street by some crazed dude in glasses into some sort of portal. Now he was falling down some sort of dark tunnel. Before he could even react, the tunnel disappeared and the ground rushed at him. He hit the bridge with a thud and slid towards the edge. He grabbed wildly for a handhold, managing to sink his claws into the wood. He gritted his teeth, hauling himself higher. A searing pain shot through his hands as he pulled himself up by his claws, managing to get a leg over the edge. He rolled onto the bridge, breathing a shaky breath. That had been too close. He got to his feet a little slowly, retracting his claws. He brushed himself off as he pursed his lips in annoyance at the group of people staring at him. “Thanks, guys,” he said very sarcastically, “had it not been for all of you, I would fallen to my death.” Where the heck was he anyway?
(XNXP I'm not joking)
Writ·ing: Creative Schizophrenia
Know the Scarlet Band