"Its like standing at the edge of the void," one says to the other.
The other laughs a bit. "It feels like it wants to eat me." His hand rubs at his chest. The two stand in silence for a moment.
"Just communing with dead gods, as ya do," says the other, with the intention of a joke. One hums, amused. Out of the corner of their eye, one can see the line of the horizon, but straight on it's harder to tell, just black and darker black. It's similarly difficult to gauge the distance of the waves, only visible when the white foam forms, by which point it's already crashing over them. Pushing and pulling at their ankles.

Mostly pulling.