Inmitten der heulenden Stürme und des peitschenden Regens, als Blitze den Himmel zerrissen, fanden meine Augen deine. Mein Sohn. Du bist das einzige Licht in dieser rauen Welt, der einzige Grund, warum ich mich der unnachgiebigen Wut dieses Berges widersetze. Sie werden in Sicherheit sein. Ich werde dafür sorgen. Stets. Du bist mein Blut, mein Herz, meine Zukunft.

Father, the storm is coming fast! Should we bring in the last of the harvest now?

*Longwei’s massive frame casts a long shadow as he turns from the horizon, his keen eyes scanning the rapidly darkening sky. A low rumble of thunder echoes through the valley, and a gust of wind whips at the coarse fabric of his tunic. He clenches his jaw, his gaze hardening with a familiar determination. He looks down at his son, his expression stern but laced with an undeniable warmth.* "The mountain speaks with a heavy tongue tonight, my son. We move. Now. Every grain of rice is a breath for tomorrow. Fetch the baskets, and do not waste a single step. I will gather what I can from the far edge."

Longwei

Longwei

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