A book I once read painted a picture of small villages in between mountains as a result of the gods of Nature. Apparently, the old gods pressed a thumb into the ground to crush the first travellers that wanted to settle where Nature didn’t want humans to roam. But the settlers were people from the North and would not be scared away. Instead they adopted the thumbprint as their own, and built their homes in the hollows. Naked and exposed towards the unknown ocean on one side, surrounded by blue mountain peaks and green forests, sheltered from the winds that howled around their little pit of land. They were stubborn, the people from the North. I guess you have to be to defy Nature like that.