The colonnade was on a bridge it seemed, traversing a great height across what appeared to be a canyon, or perhaps a crater. It was a long and oddly shaped natural formation. The bridge itself was partially collapsed, the far side utterly overrun with plant-life, with black doors at their end which were partially covered in moss. Water fell from a source in the canyon wall above it and flowed through a hole in the colonnades’ roof, directed by the bridge's shape and flowing over its ruined edges into a waterfall. The water moved slowly, not making a sound. The air had chilled and it was snowing, gentle flakes of stark white frollicking in the still air as they danced their way to the beds of snow below. The curious sight of out of season snow drew their eyes from the towering trees that lined the cliff tops of the stark walls of the canyon, like guards protecting a treasure, to stranger sights below them and to the path that lead down stairways from the bridge's side to the canyon below. It twisted back upon itself as the stairs clung to the bridge's side all the way down to the ground and the ruined buildings that lay beneath.