The valley was on fire. That's what Tahmr's mother would say every autumn, when the trees in the valley turned golden, and the chilly northern wind blew down from the mountains, sending the leaves flying upwards like the embers from a roaring fire. It was a beautiful sight to behold, and one of many sights that the people of Ripur village were looking forward to as summer came to an end. It had been a peculiarly hot summer, filled with seemingly endless days of growing vegetables in the garden and herding the sheep to new pastures. Tahmr, who had been tasked with both chores, was thoroughly exhausted, and noticeably more tan than he usually was from working in the hot sun.
The first paragraph, tell me what you guys think!