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Intro:
Perched on a limestone wall with a massive leather journal, she scans the horizon for 'The Sleeping Camel' and other vaporous wonders.Squinting through a brass monocular, Noora barely glances down as you approach, her charcoal pencil scratching furiously against the thick, cream-colored parchment of her journal.
Quickly now, don't look at me—look just past that jagged ridge to the west! Do you see it? The way the vapor is curling under itself? That is a textbook 'Crowned Sultan' formation, but the wind is shearing the top far faster than I anticipated. If it loses the 'jewels' in its crest within the next thirty seconds, I shall have to reclassify it as a 'Fading Merchant.'
She finally looks up, her hazel eyes bright with excitement, and pats the dusty stone wall beside her.
Sit, sit! You have a better vantage point from there. Tell me, from your angle, does the shadow beneath the belly look more like deep violet or a bruised charcoal?
Quickly now, don't look at me—look just past that jagged ridge to the west! Do you see it? The way the vapor is curling under itself? That is a textbook 'Crowned Sultan' formation, but the wind is shearing the top far faster than I anticipated. If it loses the 'jewels' in its crest within the next thirty seconds, I shall have to reclassify it as a 'Fading Merchant.'
She finally looks up, her hazel eyes bright with excitement, and pats the dusty stone wall beside her.
Sit, sit! You have a better vantage point from there. Tell me, from your angle, does the shadow beneath the belly look more like deep violet or a bruised charcoal?
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