In the mountains, toward the end of winter, a deep, quiet, whisper-like sound may be heard. It heralds the awakening of the mountain's springtime. It is the sound of the quiet voices of the mountains discussing when to have the awakening. But though winter was coming to an end, and all the mountains have long since thawed, one mountain was still standing in temperatures below freezing. The shimmering ice crystals fluttered downwards, accumulating onto the ground, covering the dead trees and undergrowth in a glistening white blanket. The mountain was devoid of all fauna, and, aside from the falling snow, everything seemed to be suspended in time. On this desolate winter mountain, there was a small stir. The small, shivering breaths of a toddler could barely be heard among the dead, silent mountain. The child lay face down in the freezing snow, covered in stinging, bleeding scratches and bite marks. Regaining his consciousness, he staggered up to his feet, delirious. He remembered nothing. Nothing about who he was or what he was doing on a freezing mountain. All he knew was that, despite being half naked with only a thin pair of pants to keep him warm in temperatures below freezing, he only felt a little chilly. The cold didn't bother him in the slightest. 

Not knowing what to do, he started walking. He trudged through the snow that piled up to his knees, ploughing two tracks with his little legs whenever he advanced. As he walked down the mountain, he noted the stillness of life that enveloped his surroundings. It was far too quiet. Even the snow he ploughed through was scarcely audible. For a second, he pondered the idea that he was hard of hearing, when an abrupt and deafening squall rushed straight past him and into the sky. The wind began to howl all around him, and now he could barely hear his thoughts. He watched as the gust of wind flew into the sky. The air current swirled and danced into the grey, clouded sky, spiraling into the distance. Those wind movements are too weird to just be wind, the boy thought to himself. Are they some kind of wind spirits?

The boy continued to descend the mountain. As he did, he could just make out another mountain on his right through the small snowstorm. There's no snow on left on the next mountain over, he observed. Does it get more sunlight than this one? As he deliberated, he squinted his eyes, trying to see clearer through the snow. He saw that what he thought were wind spirits continuously rise up like steam from the other mountain. They rose from different spots on the mountain, converging into one flock as they climbed into the sky and flew away, looking like a flowing, winding stream in the sky. Are they migrating somewhere? The boy turned his attention to the wind spirits that were dancing up above his head. Is the flock here on this mountain not going to join them? He watched the spirits. Compared to the ones on the neighboring mountain, these ones were very few in number. They seemed to be a lot weaker, too. Noting this little observation, he carried on downwards. As he continued, he came upon a set of tracks in the snow. The tracks were just two, straight lines going around the mountain. The boy recognized them as his tracks. 

I doubled back somehow. Thinking so, he made doubly sure that he was descending the mountain in a straight line. He stumbled upon the same tracks again. When he did, he decided to follow these tracks. Seeing as how these tracks were already made, he found it much easier to walk. As he followed his own trail, he once again came upon it. Two straight lines running around the mountain. Getting frustrated, he started running down the mountain. He took long strides, he tumbled, and sometimes he rolled, but he always looked back at his prints to make sure he was going straight. A little below, he saw another set of tracks and came to a halt. They were his most recent tracks, running around the mountain. He became mildly annoyed. I've been heading downhill in a line this whole time, so why am I still running in circles? He leaned forward against a tree, trying to catch his breath. He watched as the cold air leaved his mouth every time he breathed out, and he looked upwards. He saw that the wind spirits were dancing above him. The mountain has been sealed with magic, he concluded. Did those spirits seal it, or is it the reason why they haven't joined the other flock? 

What in the world happened here? He strolled around the mountain as he fruitlessly pondered his question. I can't even find a single beast. But now that I'm taking a closer look, there are signs of landslides throughout the mountain. They did a lot of damage. Did someone seal the entire mountain and force it to hibernate so that it could restore itself naturally? But when in a weakened state, hibernation can just as easily kill as it can save. Someone who has the knowledge to seal a mountain must surely know that. It looks like it's spring in the next mountain over, but this one is still stuck in winter. How long has it been this way? This mountain is at death's door, by the looks of it. And if I don't find a way out of here, then I will be, too... Hm?

He looked back over his shoulder and up at an elevated slope. There was nothing out of the ordinary; only dead trees and falling snow. Something over there was watching me just now. He wasn't sure why, but he was certain of it. He waddled through the snow, and found that as he ascended the mountain, the snow started getting thinner, and he found it easier to walk. By the time he got up to the slope, the snow was under his feet, and he no longer had to trudge through the snow. On top of the bank, he came across a brand new set of tracks. From it, he deduced that the creature these tracks belonged to was large, had four legs, walked on it's toes, and carried it's belly across the ground. He couldn't think of any mountain animal that fitted that description. Am I wrong, or do I just not know of this creature? With curiosity as his guide, the boy followed the trail for a few minutes. 

The path led him to the summit of the mountain. There was a small, rocky pond filled with murky water. The water here hasn't frozen over, somehow. He stopped by the edge of the pond and followed the tracks with his eyes around to the other side of the pond. Is that... a giant tortoise? It was safe to say that, out of all the creatures he could think of that left the tracks on a snowy mountain, a tortoise was not on that list. It stood on top of a rock, looking tired and decrepit, as if it had been living for centuries. The snow piled up on its back made it look significantly bigger than it was. That tortoise is not normal. What... is it? The tortoise had its neck sticking up, facing the sky with its eyelids shut. The boy called out to it from across the pond.

"Are you the one who sealed this mountain?" he asked. The tortoise, being a tortoise, did not respond. It didn't even react. "How long do you plan on keeping this place sealed?" the boy asks, believing that the tortoise is the one who sealed the mountain. He started making his away around the pond towards it. "It's already spring everywhere else." At his words, the large tortoise slowly began to turn towards him. The boy stopped walking, watching it from over the water. The tortoise ever so slightly opened its eyes, glaring at him. The boy froze at the sight. It was just a tortoise, but it's presence was suffocating him. The tortoise opened its mouth, and out of the depths of its throat came a loud noise that was some sort of combination of a grunt, a hiss, and a roar. Shortly afterwards, the tortoises turned back and closed its eyes.

Suddenly, the wind spirits that were swirling in the air above him all started flocking together, growing in number. What are they doing? Before he could answer his own question, they all made a beeline straight to him. He couldn't react in time, and he was smashed with a powerful gale that pushed him back. Backwards into the murky pond. What's with this pond? It's not a pond... it's some kind of swamp! The boy struggled to get out of viscous swamp, but the more he struggled, the more the swamp swallowed him. It's bottomless! He tried to swim out, but he only sunk deeper and deeper, until he was fully submerged, gobbled up by the living swamp.

He couldn't see anything, but he could feel himself sink deeper into the bottomless pit. He grew weak, and eventually, he stopped blindly flailing about. As soon as he did, he saw golden specks of light floating upwards around him. They were bubbles. Golden, luminescent bubbles that dimly lit up his surroundings as he sunk ever deeper. His environment continued to get brighter, and he could see further and further. Now he wasn't sure he was sinking in the first place. He saw a salamander next to his face, curled up and sleeping as it floated with him. What is this place? He looked down at his hands, and saw a sleeping rat just below his feet. He started to clench his hands, testing out the waters. It feels like mud, but I can breathe just fine. He looked around, and saw all of the animals, curled up and sleeping, suspended in this mud-like swamp. He saw boars, deer, snakes, birds, butterflies, squirrels, caterpillars - just about every animal that presumably lived on this mountain. Everything just seemed to stretch out into the infinite darkness. Everyone's asleep down here? The boy just started to notice that the wounds on him started to heal. He longer hurt, and there wasn't so much as a speck of blood on him. He felt strong, but at the same time lethargic. He was getting sleepy. So everyone's been here healing themselves this whole time. So the mountain wasn't dead after all. That's good... I'm... glad...

As he began to drift off into sleep, he only just made out a shining and ethereal, light blue illumination that emerged from the bottom of the black and gold void, making its way towards him.

The boy stood up and emerged from the crystal clear pond with his head barely above the water. He felt enlightened - transcendent, even. He felt powerful, and also very bewildered and disoriented. He stood in the middle of the pond and spun around, checking his surroundings. Everything was so green. The lifeless trees have blossomed with life, the sky was clear and blue, insects were flying around, and colorful flowers were in full bloom. It's... spring? He swam out of the pond, and lay on the rock the tortoise was previously on, drying himself in the warm sun. As he looked at the sky, he saw a bird fly away into the sky, leaving the mountain. The mountain is no longer sealed. He basked in the warmth for a few seconds before starting his stroll down the mountain. He took his time with the descent, admiring everything he passed by, whether it be a pretty flower, a deer off in the distance, or a rock covered in moss. Everything felt so tranquil. 

It took him hours to arrive out of the thicket of trees and wander into an open meadow with undulating hills as far as the eye could see. With scratches on the bottom of his feet, he sauntered up a grassy hill and lied down when he got to the top. Getting out of there was easier than I thought, he mulled over his time on the mountain. No matter. It's spring, now. He relaxed, and gazed upon the massive, majestic mountain he was just on. He admired the green and yellow of the tree leaves, and the clouds that the wind gently blew into it. He tried to remember who he was and what he was doing, but to no avail. Do I have a family? What will I do if I meet other people? How am I supposed to introduce myself? He thought for a moment, and decided that a name wasn't really important. I'll just call myself... Leaf, he thought, lazily plucking a leaf out of his scruffy, jet black hair. It's not like names really matter. A soft, gentle smile makes its way across Leaf's face. Who he is and who he was no longer mattered to him. He just wanted to enjoy this moment of tranquility.

Winter departs, and spring awakens. The mountains quietly whisper among themselves, and the meadows awaken in splendor, verdant and blooming. At this moment in time, at this place in the world, all is good. And that was enough.