The Sunspire go straight at the sun

Warbone's countenance— a permanently ruined face that managed still to be expressive (when he allowed it)— changed faintly as Inari mentioned the oddity that was his fascination with him. Amusement flickered along his features like weakened filaments in a lightbulb, and he knew that the snowy wraith was right. It couldn't be what he normally heard; at least not from the likes of staggering behemoth such as himself. Still, when the wolf took softened teeth to the fringes of his copper fur, he leaned into the mild affection, closing his eye even as he feels the scrutiny of pale mint eyes lingering on his face.

He perked again, lifting his head slightly as the man entertained his own curiosities about the situation. Apparently he had only just returned, meaning that their run-in was severely improbable... Fate, then. The titan's left ear twitched, finding himself unwilling to speak of things beyond his present comprehension, and he definitely wasn't interested in delving into a topic he certainly couldn't explain. "I like to think I know a great many things, but you and my being here is no such subject," he said, seemingly resigned to something he could not explain and cared even less to ponder about.

He angled his large head towards the vale, his pride mounting through him in the form of his swelling breast. "The valley in the mountains is mine. I hope to winter there, with my partner, and my wolves, until my dying day." He felt deeply for his home, evidenced greatly by a reverent tone of voice. "Is this peak where you intend to remain, Inari?"