Nearby there was a creek between two hills. In the creek there were tall bushes and trees with white bark like skeletons, only visible because of the dead season.

The two hills were held between four more, and those were held between eight others. The hills rose in elevation gradually up to the snowy mountains northward. To the south, the hills dwindled into the valley and cradled the heaving city below.



The first hill he walked up was capped with black rock, jagged and sundered. There was a nest inside one of the clefts scattered either with branches from the white trees or bones.



His appreciation of the flowing world did not happen the moment the picture was taken. It had long been sloshing in his brain. What happened at that moment was a mere shiver. Cold and winded from the hike, at that moment he was looking alone--if only in spirit--between the hills at the city he came from with immeasurably fantastic excitement.