I've had some pretty gruesome ones lately considering my dad's foot situation, but I just remembered one I didn't write down. I was too busy that morning, but a little stuck with me.
We were hiking, like when I was young. But more like bounding along. There were steep cliffs everywhere, like there always had been in reality, but I wasn't afraid.
Well, yeah, I bounded a little too far. I realized my mistake too late and skidded along the dusty dirt, towards a very specific cliff-face we once *scaled*, and I then I was hanging on for dear life. Unlike most of my dreams this felt entirely real, and I was very afraid. I was sliding. I caught his hand, fingers straining. I tried to calm down, no long slipping farther, but my other hand couldn't find enough purchase in the dirt to make any progress up. He was talking but I couldn't hear, it sounded like the obvious things.
We were stuck like that, and I was so afraid to fall. I didn't dare readjust my grip, and even if I had, what then? Risk pulling him down too? Or what, stay like this until help arrived?
I honestly don't remember how/if it concluded just that I was breathing heavily when I woke up, annoying early.