His journey would take him through the Vitilapin crags, the jumbled rocky mountain range separating his land from the Kingdom In The Clouds. A difficult journey through unknown and unknowable territory, ever changing as the volcanic fires below churned new peaks from the earth, throwing them up to have the sky cloak them in ice, creating and diverting rivers on a whim.
Gazing at the skyline trying to make out the shapes, the mountains seemed both near and far, the distant peaks seeming pure and unattainable, clogged with snow like a thick white emulsion. He was not at all sure that some of the peaks would not sublime into clouds during the eyeblink when he wasn't watching. The lower crags seemed dank, gritty, dirty in comparison, a study in undifferentiated greys, browns and blacks.