Some things move through the world. Some things let the world move through them. This is the story of both. Every evening, a restless little Wind comes rushing home to an ancient, silent Mountain - full of stories about the ocean, the desert, the forest, the whole wide world it has just seen. Mountain has never left this one spot. But as the night unfolds, Wind discovers a secret written into the very shape of Mountain's face: every visit, every gust, every single night for a thousand years, has left its mark - carved gently into stone forever. >You do not have to move through the world for the world to move through you.
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