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The night is cold and brilliantly clear. |
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Peak after peak of glorius ice mountains |
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rose into the dome of the darkened skies. |
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Jagged crystal teeth queezed between |
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the depths of the jet-black fjords. |
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The mountains lost their sharpness and became |
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soft and blue-tinged as the great winter day. |
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Which would grow on to be a dim twilight |
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that glimmered slowly to life. |
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Above the peaks the Polar sky flickered with |
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the ghostly radiance of the northern light. |
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A frozen lake discharge into an equally frozen stream. |
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The cold is cruel and unforgiving like the landscape. |
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Up north. |