Duskfire Glacier Celebration dance

yes, faust said, voice low against the hush of stone. he did not immediately lay beside her, instead standing a moment longer to study the curve of her body in repose—white fur haloed by the dim light of the den, stark and soft against the cold rock.
i was born in a mount like this, his eyes traced the earth, as if memory lived somewhere below their feet. darker. stronger winds. his gaze drifted to the narrow mouth of the den, watching the wind whip past without sound. but quiet always found me, no matter the place.
eventually he sank beside her, his great form settling with the gravity of a mountain come to rest. close, but not touching. yet.
and you? he murmured, eyes now fixed on her, not the storm beyond. you climbed the mountain with ease.