Short-Story: Magic Mountain

Note: This is a world building scene.

The grass changes to green as the drip drops of water kiss the earth of the meadows to the west. Don’t forget all the mountain trolls and rock creatures that sleep silently out to the north. To the east raging waters of rivers and oceans ran and surged wild and free. A landscape to the south made of sand and cactus that can kill with hypothermia or heat exhaustion - if not prepared.

Zulu crouched, staring off into the distance taking in his landscape, on top of the highest mountain troll his village protected; at its apex gave sight to all four directions of his world. He picks up a pebble with his rugged fingers and missing fingernails tossing it into the air to watch brother wind hurl it west. He thinks to himself, a sign of heavy rainfall to come. The light blue sky to the west gave sunlight to the meadows preparing for the storm to come. Out to the east lines of clouds ran north and south full of water blending an undertone of dark grey to the clouds that overlayed the light blue sky overhead.