There were several times when he felt like he was going to fall off. Every time he stabbed the pit wall, he nervously watched as small clumps began crumble off due his weight. It had him rushing upward, with each motion of his hands edging him towards the sky bidding him to get up faster, lest he fall back down to a ground again.
When he finally reached the pit’s outer edge, a rush of relief ran through him. He pulled himself onto solid ground with eager hands, taking a moment to lie on the ground out of sheer appreciation.
But it was short lived. The sound of Raymond’s activities have gone suspiciously quiet, with the nearby woodland no longer thundering with the sound of great cracks. It had him stabbing the spike in the ground as he quickly tied the magic thread around it.