On the seventh day, after a storm that turned the trail into a white river of snow, they emerged into a bowl of land that was impossible to describe. The valley lay cradled between two massive ridges, its floor a carpet of wildflowers that glowed under the sunrise. A clear river ran through it, its water catching the first light and scattering it like a thousand tiny mirrors. The houses, built of stone and wood, clung to the slopes as though they were part of the rock itself. And above it all, the sky was so close that clouds seemed to brush the rooftops.
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