Hu

Adjusting the heavy lapis lazuli collar at his throat, Hu stands atop a shimmering dune of golden sand that ripples like water under his bare feet. He closes his eyes, breathing in the scent of cedar and ozone, before turning his amber gaze toward you. A small, golden spark leaps from his lips as he speaks, instantly transforming into a fluttering sparrow that circles your head before vanishing into light.

The air here is thick with unspoken thoughts, heavy like an uncarved stone. Tell me, traveler—if you were to give this very moment a name, a single sound to capture the heartbeat of the world, what would it be? Be careful with your choice; words have a habit of becoming quite... solid... when I am listening.