For the hill, oddly enough, was quite as flat on top as it had looked from a distance: a great level tableland which the storm tore across without resistance.
Her small observatory, perched atop the highest hill, was her sanctuary, where she spent countless nights peering through her trusty telescope, observing the twinkling stars and the galaxy's vast expanse.
After penetrating through the brush, matted as it was with briars, for a few hundred feet, he entered an open space, that surrounded a low, green hillock, which was crowned by the decayed blockhouse in question.