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This didn’t get off the ground. The paragraphs below are more connected ideas I failed to stitch together than true grammatical structures.
Aunchy xa’Thill spied the crooked black chimney through the straight gray firs and paused on the mountian trail above it. A guild-made window—found or stolen from the city—covered a trapezoidal hole in the wall. An unknown builder fashioned that wall from two L-shaped pieces of ply-wood: one painted red, the other unpainted, but still stamped with the mill name. The evergreen roof pitched steeply was scaled more for a doll’s house than
The small home gave him a queer feeling that only increased the more he regarded structure.
The piece-meal home moved unnaturally against the distant backdrop of mountains across the valley and then, as xa’Thill descended the trail from above, it seemed to rise into the trees like the moon cresting the horizon and soaring into the sky.
Day 363