We will wait. We always wait. It does not matter, today, tomorrow, next year—a decade from now, even—we’ll wait. If not you, someone; someone always falls. Ruin always finds its way in. We’re inevitable. Build your City then, raise your walls; we will still be there in the end, waiting. We are always there, and we will welcome you with open arms.
Perhaps, you will, by that time, have set up a name for yourself. We will be just as happy to take it too. All things become our masks, in the end, for all things are empty.
Tale Told 