Work Text:
Grian didn’t know what was happening.
He’d been sleeping in his alley when suddenly the ground began to shake, causing him to bolt upright, trying to figure out what was going on.
Dust fell from the walls of the cave he’d built, and suddenly he found himself questioning the decision he and Scar had made against filling in the mountain as chunks of rock began to fall.
He scrambled out of bed, knowing he had to get out of there. Slamming his door open, he tried to run out of the cave, but was cut off by a chunk of the ceiling landing in front of him.
The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, head throbbing.
Grian reached up to touch the back of his head and pulled his hand away to find it sticky with blood. That wasn’t good, he thought, blinking slowly.
Everything was wrong. It wasn’t like the world was spinning around him, more like he was on a rocking boat. He tried to stand, but stumbled.
Pieces of the cave continued to collapse around him as he did his best to drag himself outside. Another hunk of rock hit him and he fell again, and this time he didn’t even get a chance to try and get back up before the rest of the ceiling fell on top of him, crushing him.
He screamed in pain as he felt something in his leg snap, and did his best to keep breathing. It hurt. Everything hurt. He was scared. Grian could feel the world slowing around him, and he knew he was going to pass out soon.
He screamed for help in one last attempt at escaping. Someone would find him, he told himself as the world faded to black. They had to.