My Costar is my priority
Yao Shen scrambles in midair to cling to any of the twisted roots that he crashes into on his way down.
He slams into a mass of twisted roots and gets all the air knocked out of him. The impact is painful, but at least he's no longer falling. Gingerly, he sits himself up on the roots and looks up at the edge of the plateau.
Seeing how far he has fallen is dizzying, but even more so is seeing how far away he still has to go to reach the ground.
With a long-suffering sigh, he pulls down the silver thread wrapped around his wrist, on the off chance that Xie Bian didn't notice his free-fall.
He waits for someone to come, perched precariously on the knotted roots.
After some time passes it becomes apparent that no one is coming.
Yao Shen looks up at the sheer rockface with a feeling of hopeless trepidation.