As they reached a high ridge overlooking a hidden valley, Avalon pulled the car to a stop. They stepped out into the stillness, the wind tugging at their hair. There was no agenda, no ticking clock—just two sisters (or perhaps closer-than-close friends) standing at the edge of the world, documenting a moment of perfect freedom. In the vastness of the West, Arcadia and Avalon weren't just travelers; they were part of the landscape itself. of their journey or the between the two characters?
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