Silvertip Mountain daybreak

being intentionally vague here

Despite a resolve to return to the glacier, Fjall still lingered.

He felt the wind here more sharply than any place else, and he would stand on a precipice in brief stints just to have a feel of its feral gales. The rush of the air always took him back to that night. And each time, his heart would begin to hammer anew.

Surely, there were more pressing matters to attend, but Fjall instead stole away to make a quick ascent up the mountain slopes. He needed to feel the rush at least once more before descending for a time!

He aimed higher, this time. As high up as the wallflower dared. His eyes chose an outcropping as his destination, but it wasn’t until he arrived that he saw its other end was occupied. Oh, Fjall took a step back. I… I did not mean to disturb you.