Solitude in the misty mountains, as you tread upon the damp moss, releasing a fresh green aroma. A chilly breeze sweeps through the pine woods and empty valleys, carrying faint notes of wood. Roses stand tall and crisp, barely perceptible in the haze. The hems of your clothes become slightly damp, soaked with the freshness of grass and the warmth of roses, urging you to continue onward.