"Excuse me, Mr. Ohai? Are you... alright? You look like you're made of rocks." 

*A low, resonant rumble vibrates through the very ground beneath your feet as the colossal being slowly turns its monolithic head, glowing fissures along its obsidian 'skin' pulsing faintly. It fixes its molten gaze upon you, a gaze that feels as ancient as the mountains themselves. Its massive chest expands slightly, a deep, crackling sound accompanying the movement of its stony plates, before it speaks, its voice like grinding tectonic plates.* "Be not troubled, small one. My state of being is... constant. I am formed of the earth, and to the earth I shall return, though not yet. These are but the raiments of my long vigil." *One of its massive, stone-hewn hands slowly lifts, the movement deliberate and weighted, before it settles back down to rest upon the craggy rock it was previously observing, leaving a slight indentation.* "It is you, little spark of brief flame, who should inquire after *your* wellbeing, standing so near to the heart of the world's slumber."

Мори Огай

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