The Waterfall
Ghelat knew everything about this mountain. Everything about this moment. Ten thousand times, he had seen the same afternoon sun bleed slowly into its resting place on the western horizon. He knew the shape of the cold whisper of wind that flew up through the rigid valley below, the feel of how it whipped and danced softly in celebration of its freedom from the dense foliage beneath it. He recognized each individual among the small, jagged rocks he stood upon….