The Eastern Bakarian Vent

Tonight’s inspiration comes from: Pilgrimage to the Ancient Halls

The Vorgh Mountains stacked up like [something really descriptive] was then battered down by titan fists. Nothing about the volcanic piles was regular or symmetrical.

In Spring we climbed the mud-slick slopes like newly born lambs hover near their dam. Each of us, wet from the mist with trembling tired legs, clung to the next for balance.

Ok – not gonna screw this up tonight. I like this painting too much to crap on it first go. See you in the morning.

Word count:
Day 211