C9 Where the Sky breaks

The ridge loomed like a jagged scar against the pale morning sky. Its silhouette tore across the horizon, sharp and merciless, as though the earth itself had been clawed open. The wind was relentless, rushing down from the peaks in icy bursts that rattled the trees below and bit at any strip of exposed skin.

I had been near this place before, but never this high. Never at this hour