The Sleeping Warrior

The warrior lay sleeping in the valley as the winds charged down the mountainsides. His bronzed arms lay like knotted vines across fallen chunks of granite; his massive chest rose and fell like the waves on an uncertain sea. Soon it began to snow. White flakes flecked his beard and his exposed forehead changed to a bright shade of red. As the night carried him around the world, rising snowdrifts hedged him in.
Later, as morning came, a bird flitted over his head, first landing on the snow, then hopping across his frosted breastplate, leaving its claw prints on both.