I dragged myself out of bed before dawn had even made its hesitant appearance and found myself standing at the base of the mountain. The air was crisp and still, a silent promise of adventure hanging in the cool morning mist.
Mount Clique, the towering giant, loomed ahead, its peak obscured by the low-hanging clouds. I took a deep breath, the chilly air filling his lungs with a refreshing clarity. I decided to go up the mountain and as I climbed higher, the landscape began to transform. The dense forest gave way to sparse vegetation, and the air grew thinner, tinged with the sharp scent of the wildflowers and long grass. I stood midway and took in the view, the world was still shrouded in the shadows of early dawn, but above the fog gathered across the mountaintop.
