The Sunspire i don't see red 'cause

Taikon listened, and thought about what he believed in. He thought about the things he liked to think he stood for. Freedom of thought was the reason he had been cast out of Sagtannet. It was also the facade of this freedom why his mother probably still ruled over the Farukan Kingdom, unless one of her other sons had succeeded her. He had also begun to realize that compassion seemed to run many aspects of his life. Some, like his mother, viewed this as weakness. It was why Zephyr and he were talking. A less compassionate wolf would have let her wander on, considering only their own well-being instead of hers. Taikon wondered if, now that they had rescued Taktuq from further violence, that Takiyok might view his decision to bring Zephyr along differently.
What we were made for. Taikon was made to rule a kingdom that he now had no claim to. He had been born with someone else's purpose in mind, and he had long outgrown the possibility.
She spoke of balance. Of the patterns in their own nature. Of the way they collided, strung together like a great tapestry, threads in every colour that when zoomed out, appeared a muddy and balanced grey and brown.
Taikon sighed. Her thoughts were a strange new voice on a part of himself he hadn't bothered to touch in a long time. He slowed his pace, distracted now, unable to spot the nuances of potential danger. He watched her gaze, noticed a coldness to the metal of their colour. For a moment, she stole his breath. If it's always balanced, then there's no colour in the world, he added quietly.