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H07 - Hedge - Looptrod - Singing Sky

The wind atop the mountain is a silken flow of biting ice and sharp-sweet song, prone to swirl, to spin, to change directions with uncanny inconvenience, cold stone shaped by unknown ages to provide that high and fluting melody through gaps and channels in the rock. While there is no snow, no ice, the air is never less than chilled, the heavens perhaps closer than they should be; sun, moon and stars seem close enough to reach a hand into the pool of sky and simply pluck them out.

Tall standing stones offer shelter against the worst of the wind, sparse shrubbery clinging to the rocky slopes around them. Trees, stunted and gnarled, greedily overshadow the sole path in and out of the summit's hollow safety.

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