The gentle and cool night air swept over the cliffside, carrying with it the fragrance of the wild as I sat at my desk and stared out at the silver-lit canopy deep within the forest.
The moon hung bright in the night sky, bulging just two days shy of a perfect full circle, washing the endless sea of trees below in a pale, ghostly glow.
I was currently sitting exactly twenty meters in the air.
Instead of pitching a tent on the dirt like a normal person, I had erupted a massive, singular root from the cliff's edge, guiding the thick wood to spiral straight up into the sky before curling the very top into a perfectly flat, solid platform.
To keep the local Magic Beast population from turning me into a midnight snack, I had also layered the entire vertical stalk with dense thorns dripping with my signature neurotoxin.
