Little Goat Mountain a too-small mountain

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This was a mountain that Amsu had climbed, it being small and easy. The grass was dead from the cold and there were no other inhabitants, but the smell of goat—old and stale—permeated the air. Perhaps they would return in the spring, Amsu thought. For now, this little mountain was rather lonely. It would be a beautiful place to make a new home, especially when the grass came back, green and fertile, but it did not carry a trace of the red that Amsu had grown up with. Deserts and canyons were the places his heart belonged. And this mountain was small, not as close to the sun as he would have liked. For now, he decided to move on. Sighing, he stood from his seat at the top of the mountain and began to make his way back down.