I’ve never witnessed a wave atop a mountain until now, and the gray layer that hides the crest is monstrous. It covers the moon though the light fights for survival. The ridge of the fog approaches, drops of rain crackle on the buildings and flood the grounds. How I yearn for the peak, yearn for assurance. The trees are dark, the tunnel is hypnotizing, and the cloud moves in to suffocate more land.
A Setting Entry
