Untangling massive arms from a mess of lichen-smeared scree and withered roots, the stone woman pushed herself upright.
Rai flipped her cloak up protectively, as small rocks cascaded off the woman’s shoulders. She winced as something struck her head, then nearly fell backwards off the steep slope when the guardian stamped an enormous foot.
“Who are you,” the woman said, voice rumbling like thunder.
“I seek the Mountain’s Door.” Rai craned her head back to glimpse the woman’s granite face.
“You do not conform to the garb of the Seekers.”
“The Seekers are gone. I am the Key.”
(Written for The Prediction. Challenge words: conform, lichen, stamp)