Had a bit of a rush of creativity all of a sudden. I had the thought: “What would a mountain-dwarf say about adventure and hitting rock-bottom?” I’d imagine the conversation would look something like this.
You think me disturbed, standing here amidst the trees and the plain? You misunderstand me–and my people.
Though we are born of the mountain halls and seek the shelter of rock and stone, the wood and the water are no less joyous to us than they are to you. I am at peace amid the howls of the wind through kingdoms cavernous in much the same way that my heart overflows among the whisper of trees.
I, too, know the peace of sleeping beneath the Shimmer, of the refreshing bite of cold mountain streams beneath the inferno of a Summer’s ray. Long have I scaled and roamed through Father Winter’s cold rage, longer than you have lived.
Foolish indeed, for you to believe that I am somehow separated from my element. Though I am separate from my kin in this, my love for the world writ-large lies unguarded and open for all to gaze upon. If the mountains are the womb from which we are birthed, then the Earth is the body that cries out for want of formation and exploration. If this is true, then truly it would be a crime to lie in passive repose, cruel indeed to the mind that novelty remain undiscovered.
You believe I am mad for leaving the kingdoms of my forebears in search of myself and what wonders lie beyond. I hold naught but pity for you, for being blind to all else that I am and all the more that I might become.
Come with me now, let us be stripped-bare of pity and grief. If it is true that we have hit rock-bottom, then Fortune has smiled upon us and granted us a boon cloaked in pain–for upon this rock we will build the strongest of foundations.