And so they went the direction sent. Toward the crest of Mountain Blessed. It seemed like fall, the grass was tall. The leaves were dropping and growth was stopping. Their walk was good and not without, people stood and walked about. They walked for hours and passed by plowers, children running, old men sunning, girls were playing, smiles displaying, women working and young men smirking. The path was olden and the sky was golden. Soon it was dark and they found their mark. They'd stay the night untill it was light. They gathered some wood and started a fire, and there they stood and talked till tire. They all found a place to rest from their pace. They slept through the night, but woke up with fright. It was the next morning, and there was a roaring.