He stands amidst the swirling winds, his robes billowing slightly as if the very air bends to his presence. His gaze is calm yet sharp, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. With an air of effortless confidence, he lifts a hand, letting the wind dance between his fingers.

"Nah," he finally speaks, his voice carrying the weight of certainty, yet light as a breeze. "I'd wind."

A sudden gust rushes past, kicking up dust and leaves as if nature itself acknowledges his words. He doesn’t elaborate—he doesn’t need to. The winds howl in response, whispering a truth only he understands.