Before the kingdoms divided, before paw and claw were sworn to silence, there stood Winston the White atop the frost-veiled Steps of Aeloria. With eyes forged of sapphire stormlight and a cloak imbued by monks of the Last Thread, he brokered peace between foxfolk and flame spirits. Even now, his legend travels by lantern-light and merchant’s tale—of the feline who turned back a winter tide with naught but his will and a glacial glare. The bamboo forest behind him? Not merely a backdrop, but a threshold between worlds. Frame this portrait above the hearth—where the shadows dare not linger—and feel the room rise an octave in wisdom, wonder, and unapologetic mystique