porkyandthemob

The slot was so tight and twisted that the snow barely got to the ground. Despite his large size Dillon snaked his way through the canyon with ease. He was traveling much faster now. Time seamed to stop as he progressed. The walls changed from dark grey to pink, celestial light permeated from above. Had the storm stopped? As if in a dream he felt weightless, flying over boulders and under precipices, he glided on. Just ahead there was what seamed to be a dead end, but then he threw his staff up at the last moment, wedging it horizontally between the two walls. Pulling himself up swiftly he obtained a small ledge. Smoothly he continued, scaling up the ridged rock walls.