The Sunspire immune to this

faust held his ground against the mountain’s howl, the wild gusts tugging at his fur but failing to move him. his green eyes remained steady on the stranger, unyielding as the other wolf spoke. the words carried weight, but faust let them linger in the cold air, his expression unreadable.

the mountain shows us the world, he replied, his voice low, carrying the quiet strength of stone grinding against stone. but it also shows us how small we are.

his gaze flicked briefly to the horizon, where the peaks stretched endlessly, their jagged edges lost in the swirling flurries. you can sit atop the summit all you want. doesn’t change the fact that it’s the wind, not us, that carves these cliffs.