It was a cold morning. They crashed on with frost creeping towards them and the fog thinking every second of every minute like the souls of lost family closing in on you. When Jones eventually woke up, he stumbled towards the side of the ship looking over the misty meadows beside him. As he walked over the frosty grass crackling underfoot, the frozen tips of the grass stick up like statues out the ground. Sounded by white mountain peaks in the hill lands of hobbits ville. All you can see for miles is hill land dotted with flocks of mountain goats.