20: Sea of Citrine

2815 Words

Our official camping site was on top of a small mountain, a rocky hill leading up to a cliff made out of boulders and stony plates. There was a gigantic tree at the edge of the cliff, and its gnarly branches stretched for metres above our heads. Its roots sprouted out the rust-coloured surface of the mountain, and sunk back into the ground once it reached the grassy patches farther away from the cliff. There was a clear view of shorter mountains from our location, and we could get a glimpse of the shore and the sea mounting onto the sand. The rush of water, the twitter of tropical birds, and the smell of brisk air felt nostalgic. I felt this before, but couldn’t remember from where. The kingdom had set up their tents a good distance away from the edge of the cliff. Atlanta and I were sh

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