Solid earth. The plains are made of solid earth.
You have only begun again.
The plains rise in hills all around you, and here you are, in the vibrant green. Alive. Your legs ache terribly, or have gone numb, it no longer matters. It no sooner matters than to cry, to burst, and to bring anew some element of hope. You can only climb up... but for now you cannot climb, you are locked at home here in the vibrant green. There will be time for that later.
Is this birth?
Or...
It is all the same for now.
Your legs have mended and bent into forms, and you rise. A path is here, leading into the hills