"Fuck!" The swirling wind has only started to kick up when Presley wraps an arm around Felicity's waist, and grabs the railing with other hand. This is far from the most stable position (why isn't there a wall here), but Presley refuses to die like this, and he is not seeing Felicity tumble to her death either.

The gusting wind feels interminable. Presley's eyes squeeze shut, but he feels the unexpected spray of tarot cards, and just as suddenly as it started, the wind dies down. Presley peeks around them. No one died? Unfortunate. "I have a new suggestion. What if we just leave Webberley here?"