Flawless.
Unlike its counterpart to the east.
Far off on the horizon at your side, you can spot the discolored snow as it sparkles beneath the growing sunlight. It is growing, you may think, the noxious fumes a whispered promise against the quiet breeze.
The beams of sun that spark between the mountainous landscape throw shadows at your feet while the sky above you holds the promising sight of daybreak ahead. Idyllic, but quiet, despite your longing. Not a sound is uttered across the wind, the plains, or at your feet.
You feel no hum.
You hear no voice.
You find no rune.