Moonstone Quarry The world that hardens as the harsher winter holds

The frostmaiden watched him for a breath longer, the steady rise and fall of the land reflected in her eyes, unmoved, unshaken. She did not speak at once; words, as steps upon snow, had to be chosen with care lest they break through thin ice. „I’ve seen what lies beneath,” she said softly, though there was a weight to her tone that wind could not carry away, „Stone breaks, too; given time, given enough pressure.”
Her gaze followed the path ahead, then returned to him, not with defiance, but caution honed by a life carved in places the sun had long forgotten. „But I’ve followed before, trusted before. And still-” A pause, brief, yet telling, „Here I stand.”
A beat passed. The silence grew taut, then she exhaled, long and even, like a slow thaw, „If the mountain lives,” she murmured, stepping forward to match his pace, „then let it speak.”