We met in this strange place which is impossible to describe and whose existence is even harder to believe. But imagine, if you will, a foamy windswept ocean breaking against a sheer wall of stone stretching for miles into the horizon. There was a grim beauty about it. Even though the oceans and the cliffs had been in battle for so long and although the cliff was crumbling and the sea stained by the stones she had prised from him, they fought, the sea constantly throwing herself at the cliff and the cliff unmoving as she broke upon him, both with teeth clenched in a dance with no end.
Adorning the tops of the cliffs were crowns of thorny bramble, in summer you can pick the berries hidden in their grey bodies but I promise you'll bleed for it. And if you follow the undulating line of the bushes for long enough you might come across a dip and then a small inlet. And if you look carefully enough through the mist you might be able to spy dim yellow lights poking through a wall. And if you get a bit closer, the wall would appear and brandish its medievel battlements. Beyond that a series of more walls rising up into the valley. Finally with a deep silence the castle would reveal itself with an air of implausibility but with a gravity that stated, calmly yet firmly, that it had been there this entire time.