The mountains were more beautiful than Misa could ever have dreamed. She had thought she knew them by seeing paintings done by other artists, but compared to the real thing, the representations were muted at best. Bright green trees coated the summits, gradually turning into a mix of vibrant violets and blues towards the peak. They were dipped in snow at the tips that glistened in the setting sun, and a few peaks disappeared beyond low clouds. Misa glimpsed a thin line of dark blue beneath the trees, and her heart fluttered when she imagined how much more beautiful it would be if she got close enough to see the deep lake blanketing the path to the summit.
Then, they dipped down a path between groves of trees, and the colors were lost to browns and darker greens. Misa sat back with
