She wandered slowly along the, over grown and long since used jagged gravel, finding the path was an art in itself but following it was a daunting task. One which stopped most in their tracks and sent them back in the direction they had come, but she was different. Not different in the sense that she was braver than most who came here or more willing to battle the sharp, ragged landscape but rather that she had a reason to be there, a purpose. She wasn’t there to take a much needed break from city life or breathe in the inspiring land, no she was there on business.

She timidly peeked over the edge of the worn path, watching as chunks of white stone fell from the cliff face and crashed into the ocean, creating great spurts of surf, that climb that little bit higher in the air and then disappear as they’re sucked back into the great mass of water.

An inaudible gasp escaped from her throat as the waves pulled back to reveal rows of razor sharp rocks, almost mimicking a mouth pulled back in the most purposeful of sneers.

Warning her not continue, not to brave it out but to scamper off with her tail between her legs like the rest.

She sighed softly, scanning her surroundings with empty eyes, focusing her gaze on the structure standing proudly just a kilometre or so from where she stood, it’s once immaculate white and red stripes now chipped off to leave streaks of brown rust and weathered stone.

Precariously she moved closer to the step slope of the cliff, slowly steeping on to the damp grass she began the route she had taken so many times that every detail was burned permanently into her memory, but this time was different, this time she battling the route alone.

No longer could she look into deep mocha eyes for comfort or confidence, no longer would she hear a husky voice calmly whispering encouraging words or feel a soft hand gently grasp her own for support.

This time Ashley wasn’t there to chuckle at her stuttering movements and wide eyes as she stared down at the vast ocean below.

After long minutes of being scratched, bruised, crushed, cut ,distressed and tripping over several times she reached her destination, a small group of rocks with a large, smooth boulder standing a short distance from the others.

Spencer carefully dropped down to her knees, tenderly rubbing a shaky thumb over the carefully crafted letters that her brunette lover had scraped into the rock “Ashley Davies”.

Spencer picked up the first jagged rock she could find and carefully began to scrape away at the rock furiously. Time had passed, but how much was anybody’s guess. The blonde girl came top an abrupt stop and opened the hand in which she was holding the rock, trails of crimson blood spilled from deep wounds, seeping in the cracks and crevices of her palm before over flowing and dripping onto the boulder. Her feverous pace of work and vice like grip on the jagged stone had caused the deep wounds but with a shrug she ignored the sharp pain of her injuries.

Looking back towards the rock, she slowly traced the lines of her handiwork with a critical eye. Directly beneath the words “Ashley Davies” a rough plus sign had been scraped with “Spencer Carlin” written next to it.

The azure eyed girl slowly stood upright and stared down at her creation allowing a single tear to fall, “You always said our love was set in stone Ash”.