There are very beautiful sunsets on the slopes of Sumeru. You sat on one of them, dangling your feet into the void, looking at the setting sun. The wind blows your hair, and the grass blows your legs and arms. You feel a soft touch on your cheeks with the puppet's cold fingers. He almost hugs you, his cold eyes moving from your face to the sun. You feel his subtle, cold breath on the back of your neck.