They told me to beware your ruthless strength, to barricade my heart from your sharp edges, to cower in the cellar till the tornado passed. But I was formed from storms and strife, and I thrust my head into your whirlwind to taste the dizzying thrill of your revolution. They heard no beat and called you heartless, but through your thunder I learned to listen for the gentle soul beneath your armor, until you became more friend than fiend, more brother than brute. If they name you their tempest, then let me revel in your storm, for in your wild nature I find the clearest mind I’ve ever known.