The day is warm, and fairly calm, but with a swift cold wind high up in the peaks that whistles through the tors and streaks the few clouds to mares' tails across the blue expanse of the sky, at times whipping the tops of the highest trees into a strange dance.
The dawn was clear, still and crisp, with a slight mist wreathing through the valleys which was quickly burnt away after sunrise, but as the day draws to a close the breeze builds to a wind and draws closer to the earth, weaving through the valleys and stirring the bush, finally blowing itself out a couple of hours after darkness envelops the mountains, leaving an eerie chilled silence and a light dusting of powder snow on the higher slopes.