Ramiel reached up with a shaking hand and grabbed a piece of protruding rock. His breathing was rapid, his inhalations short, his chest rose at irregular intervals, and his gaze was sharp, but simultaneously, he expressed great fatigue and exhaustion of the body.
" Come on... a little more. " - The man groaned and pulled up. Meanwhile, with his other hand, he blindly macerated the rough rock in search of a new point.
Ramiel has been repeating this process for countless months, and frankly, he is sick of it. Climbing blindly is twice as hard as breaking through the humanoid clouds that billow beneath a man's feet.
There, Ramiel could at least see where he was going and whether he had a stable foothold under his feet. But now? The former hunter doesn't even know how far he's come. His sense of progression is warped. All he's seen for months are dark and rugged rocks.
