He took in the vista spread before him. Lands which seemed tame to the eye, swollen with wild energy barely contained under the sweeping hills, verdant and living. The crystalline sky saturated him with halcyon dreams, bittersweet for their passing.
He ambled, his feet worked themselves in the absence of his mind. His thoughts were given to the clouds now, floating through the warm air to dissipate in the azure above.
The hulking tree stood timeless in the meadow, the overbearing symbol of the cycle of existence, life come from death. He approached, coiled rope in his hands, and climbed.