Morningside Cuesta I've often wished I could walk away from myself

Dawn had been curled up against her father's chest, not quite sleeping, but not exactly awake, either. She'd been roused first by the subtle changes in his breathing and heartbeat as he stirred, and now again was roused by the quiet timbre of her father's voice. At his command, the girl opened her sleepy eyes and made an effort to turn her head in the direction he was staring off into.

"Whoa," she breathed, awed by the vast swirls and rivers of color that'd been painted across the sky. They had a perfect view of the mountain range from here, and presently, it was outlined in bright silver as the sun prepared to make its first appearance for the day.

And then Dawn looked around herself, and found that she quite liked the look of the land they were on, too. They'd slept upon the cliff that her father had almost fallen off of, and below them was a gradually sloping plain, rife with grass and flowers and little secluded stands of trees - and just beyond that was a river, also painted silver by the morning light.

"It's beautiful here," she said, craning hear head to look up at her father's face. This seemed like important information to impart upon him, since he probably couldn't tell for himself.