Carlotta

Carlotta desperately turned her pale face to look behind her, the tears still fresh and flowing, stinging her eyes. Her golden hair blew wildly, thrown about by the hammering north-easterly wind, her bright green eyes glinted madly in the early morning light. Her eyes darted to the dark silhouettes rising over the bleak hill and snaking their way toward her vulnerable, terrified figure. She turned back to the raging sea, forty metres beneath her. The storm had blown the opaque waves into a cacophony of booms and gurgles and crashes, as they tore at the rock and plunged in and out of deep caverns and tunnels in the cliff. A bird scoured the watery battlefield for its prey, until, with a squawk, the helpless creature was engulfed by a huge mass of water and hurled under, to then, be thrown at the unforgiving rocks below.
Carlotta clenched her fist, took in a deep breath of the chilling dawn air, and jumped.