He was starting to wonder if he made a mistake. Because like all ideas he ever had — nothing ever worked out in his favour. His plan to scale the slopes seemed pretty fun in the beginning. Like it was a smart and sensible thing to do while he passed the time without thought. But in hindsight? It was none of those aforementioned things. He was short and stocky. Climbing wasn't his friend. He wondered if he would ever learn his lesson. One could only hope.
Because despite his struggle and failure to reach the peak of rugged green slopes — Cottongrass wasn't stopping. If anything he was motivated. If the mountainside didn't want to be scaled it shouldn't have been such a challenge. Maybe then he would have lost interest and continued his day without anything of note happening. But he was bored. The formation offered him an outlet he needed.
It might have been leading towards his own undoing but he didn't know that.
Instead his paws dragged along spongy grass and moss. Blunt nails dug deep into the soil and his rear wiggled as he strained himself to continue his ascent. His ears rolled back and his tail gave a desperate wag. Luck smiled down upon him and he managed to haul himself up the first of many rocky outcroppings. He was ready to bark with joy. Because this was it, right? He reached the top of the mountainside and actually finished something he started for the first time in his life.
But when he turned around he wasn't greeted with a spectacular view of the world. Instead he might as well have been standing on the ground because his view of the neighbouring lands wasn't any different. He was a whole few feet higher. His tail stopped wagging and in that moment he considered throwing himself down the outcropping.
If he was ever going to reach the top, it was going to take a while. He was torn between wallowing in a nimbus of disappointment or motivation at the prospect.