The sun rose and fell as the trees lost their leaves. Snow covered the valley in a white blanket before nature proved its eternal resilience. Fresh plants and leaves sprouted as the sun chased the winter's icy cold, reminding everyone that a vibrant hope would always emerge in this endless cycle of renewal.
Sitting by the mountain's edge, Adam's sigh merged with the spring wind ruffling his dark and blue robes. He had experienced this cycle seven times already. Yet, despite the frustrating stagnation and the cow's overbearing manners, his blue eyes flashed with sadness.
"Come on! We're leaving!"
Misha's eager voice echoed from behind.
He turned to gaze at the now nine-year-old-looking girl. Her beautiful white robes danced with each movement, the golden embroidery mirroring her eyes and hair sparkling under the morning sun.
