further into quiet

粉红矿山羊

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They leave before the mountain has a name. The road grows quieter, the air thinner, until the sound of the world is only wind, footsteps, and breath. No one says what they are looking for. Perhaps there is nothing to find. Still, they walk— toward the trees, toward the stone, toward something vast enough to make them small. And somewhere along the way, they stop listening to each other and begin listening to the mountain.