[She listens to him, rapt. Honestly there's something uncomfortable about the idea, but his phrasing gives it a beauty, even to someone like her, who is uncomfortable with stone at the best of times.]

Stone that rises taller than the waves in a storm. Is that what it's like? As though the stone rose up in a wave, up into the clouds, making a wall?

[She smiles, despite herself.]

It's difficult to imagine. It sounds as though it shares much beauty, but also much fear.