isolt griffin
Her intention had never truly been to leave him, to abandon this company she cherished so entirely, her retreat from the jagged line of the cliff's precipice merely a method to cope with the insurmountable terror presented by the lengthy descent threatened beyond this ever-so-thin border. Isolt simply recedes from the abyss, eyes now clenched tightly shut against the thing that had beckoned forth such a disturbing level of emotional tumult, slender digits curling into the dampened shroud of her crimson locks. Though her stilled lungs no longer required breath to move her, the sensation of breathlessness constricts about her as some agitated viper nonetheless. All of it a haunting homage to the terror for heights she had known during the relatively short term of her human life.

She hears Damon's approach moments before she discovers within her the willingness to allow her eyes open once more. It is naught but a heavy and pained expression and the same insistent shaking of her head that Isolt offers to her most cherished companion, crystalline eyes flickering from his offered hand to those hauntingly enigmatic grey pools. A line of crimson can be seen burbling against the lines of her lower lids, tears coaxed forth by the terror that has taken its icy blade to her innards. When words do find her lips, they come as mere whispers, loud enough only for him to hear. "It's not flying it's... it's falling. I don't want to fall, Damon, I can't..." It is in desperation that she looks away from him, to anything that might serve to ease the burden of the fear this request has imposed upon her. Anything that might dissuade her from trusting him in this.

And yet she finds... nothing.

It is an unsure thing as to what force finally coaxes her hand into his, pale and cold it quivers within the solidity of his grasp. For as far back as she is apt to remember there has dwelled within her an anxiety for heights of any kind, be they great or miniscule. However, it would appear that something within his eyes or perhaps the confidence inherent in his frame speaks a thing soft and genuine to the fearful Isolt. The fledgling vampire allows for her svelte frame to be lead to this most dreaded precipice, the grasp she maintains upon Damon's hand tightening exponentially as she looks to him this one last time. "Please don't let go, okay?" With that, she turns once more to the cliff and the landscape that is some distant beauty spread out in a stunning visual buffet before them.

The jump is abrupt for it would have surely been abandoned were it not, the plunge itself robbing the young woman of all thoughts save for the terror that wells up within her as some sickening wave of bile. Little time does she have, though, before she is plunged once more into the water below, the ambient cacophony of the world beyond muffled and nullified by the roaring of the waterfall that can be heard even beneath the water's surface. A look of unadulterated disbelief sweeps across her delicate features as Isolt breaks the surface and looks to Damon once again. Slowly she brings herself to him, resting her forehead lightly against his and bringing her hands up to frame the strong line of his jaw as a smile spreads easily across her lips. "Thank you," she whispers after a long moment, a soft chuckle escaping her to rival the roar of the falls at her back.