Karatungk. For nothing but the free wind on the boundless wilderness!

Karatungk. Traveling thousands of miles, for nothing else. Not for check-in landmarks, not for stacked scenery, not for any concrete destination. Only for that moment—when you finally stand atop the folds where earth meets sky, shedding all identities and burdens, becoming the wilderness itself. Before you lies an endless expanse, breathing. The undulating "human body grasslands" cradle the most profound solitude in their gentlest curves, stretching all the way to the snow-capped mountains. The sky hangs low, seemingly within reach, yet vast enough to hold every yearning for flight. That free wind— It cascades from the mountain peaks, sweeps across untamed meadows, carrying a crisp clarity and wild fragrance, surging toward you unimpeded and unrelenting. It fills your sleeves, lifts your hair, pierces your chest, and roars into every corner of your soul longing to unfold. In this absolute vastness, the wind is the only language and the only law. It does not explain, nor promise—it simply exists, purely and powerfully, declaring the essence of boundlessness. You came to meet it— To be utterly pierced by this free wind on the boundless wilderness, to become part of its surging flow. Until you, too, transform into a wisp, racing toward even greater emptiness. Karatungk. The heart's desire lies only in that free wind upon the wilderness.