A week went by, and Constantine was still here. He had no idea what was happening below this plateau that touched the clouds on occasion; the constant snow storm that swirled around the mountains never calmed down enough for him to see farther down than a few miles at most. All he could see was the white of the thick snow that covered every inch of the mountainside, the gray rocks and ledges underneath that, and occasionally, flurries of movement whenever animals dared venture here for food.
It was curious. There were plenty of smaller animals here although that defied natural logic; with such little vegetation, they should have kept their distance since there was so little to eat. But it wasn't the case. And indeed, after a few days, Constantine had figured out why: the bigger animals,
