Cushion My Fall.

His eyes adjusted to the tinge of red stretching in front of him; a sea of mud as far as the mountain could expand. He pushed his way up, tumbling into the mud. His clothes were covered, but the mud was cool on his skin.
He was lost in the sensation of being on top of a mountain. He was on top of the world from his view.
Instantly, he snapped back to the other sensation of sunburn burning his scalp. He glanced in the sky, and fear was in his sight.
The sun was beginning it’s descend. He was running out of time.
The recorder at his cell was still reflecting light, there was still hope, but the window of opportunity was minimizing.
He quickly scooped up the red mud and began to climb down the mountain.
He only had one hand now. He was outnumbered. The high winds at his back and his lack of balance gave him the disadvantage to triumphing his mission.
His other step was cautious, but the rock moved from under his foot.
Down he went, a fast dive towards defeat.

Only rocks were expected to cushion his blow.

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