"The truth?" he echoes. "We are as the world made us—strong, unyielding, slow to act but quick to anger. The stories call us cruel, but is winter cruel? Is the mountain that crushes the unprepared wicked? We do not bend like trees in the wind. We stand, and sometimes, we break."
His gaze shifts toward the distant peaks. "Many of my kind withdrew when the Sundering came. Some lost themselves to cold solitude, others to bitterness. But not all. Some remember the old ways. We are not heartless. We are as we have always been—rough edged, shaped by time and purpose."
Takota offers, "In kinder days, the Rock Giants were not just unyielding—they were fierce in battle and just as fierce in celebration. They feasted as heartily as they fought, shaking the earth with their laughter as much as their strength.”
He glances at Mato with a teasing smile. “Their songs could crack stone, their merriment echoing through the mountains. They were guardians, yes, but also revelers, proud and full of life.”
Mato sighs, and nods, "The world remembers the weight of stone, but it forgets its warmth.”