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Underfoot were dark stones, most of them crushed into small pieces. Rarely was there one bigger than a palm, and the smallest had already turned to sand. Their dark gray hue didn’t reflect light, making the mountain appear black from afar.
The stones that made up the snowy peaks were likely of similar texture.
There wasn’t snow here—yet—but the air was already filled with biting cold. The vegetation had grown sparse and low to the ground, mostly a single kind of shrub. A few trees that resembled pines managed to grow here, though they were far shorter than usual.
Some had even bent low, sprawling along the ground, as if even the steadfast pine had to bow in the face of this deep mountain. Green, fuzzy mosses clung to the branches—this parasitic plant seemed to suggest that the air here was damp and misty.
The swallow stood atop one of those pines, which wasn’t even as tall as a person, gazing up at the snow-covered peaks. The little cat, standing on the gravelly ground, looked up at Song You.
All around was silent and still, not even birdsong. Only their voices could be heard.
“Yan An, did your leg get sand in it?”
“L-Leg? How would my leg get sand in it?”
“It’s when there are lots of tiny little specks.”
“W-What...?”
“I mean, is your leg numb?”
“Lady Calico, my leg isn’t numb.”
“Oh…”
The cat paused, then said, “Well if it ever does go numb, remember to tell me! I have a good method!”
“Birds rarely get numb legs.”
“Then wait ‘til you turn into a person and get numb!”
“U-Understood...”
Song You paid no mind to their chatter. After watching the snow-covered mountain for a while,...
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