Twenty four hours after he fell off the cliff, Vance no longer possessed any sense of time. He was delirious, exhausted, and frustrated beyond belief. His bones ached. His jacket and shirt were off to the side, damp with sweat. He’d fallen over and over again since he first began, and there was no hope in sight.
The moon had finished its descent, and the sun was on the rise. Vance could see the end of Averyl's cloak floating from the top of the cliff. Asshole's probably up there laughing at me while he eats his damn fruit. Maybe he really is trying to kill me.