She hung there. Suspense thick in the air as she clung by her fingertips. Figures hazily rushing towards her, their cries muffled by the roar of the irate sea beneath her. Lashes fluttered, eyes teary as the wind whipped about her loosening her grip further. Her fingers went slack. Stinging and discolored after hanging onto the serrated edge of the cliff for far too long. As she fell, hair lashing about her, limbs limp, she gave in. For even she knew, the ocean could not be sated. It would take what it wants and leave behind nothing but bitter memories of what once was. Acknowledging this brought acceptance. After all, who was she to refuse the turbulent tides wishes? The waves reached up towards her, similar to cold harsh hands grasping her body and pulling her further and further in. Even the diminishing sunlight was not allowed where she was headed. It brought an odd sort of comfort, knowing that at least she could catch a glimpse of Poseidon’s palace before she went. What a fool she was to think something so breathtaking could never be so chilling and ferocious.