Bruce braced himself for the wind once he stepped out of the tunnel- it seemed a force unto itself, nearly knocking him back into the tunnel. He turned his back to it and, keeping his head down to minimize the effect of the wind, deftly sprinted upwards. The peak, where the Wind Temple could be seen, loomed high above, pillars weathered and cracked still standing obstinately against the natural elements. The sun, already on the descent, dipped just behind the temple's roof, and a halo of golden light shone from behind the ancient-looking structure. 
Bruce glanced behind him to make sure Jenso was still with him. The force of the wind would carry off any words they tried to trade, so he used his fingers to indicate that they were close. There was no extra scaffolding here, though among the loose rocks there could be made out stones that once held a smoother shape, presumably once part of a staircase. Time and erosion had worn them down and made the ascent that much steeper and more dangerous. Bruce moved from one foothold to the next in an almost constant crouching position, keeping his center of gravity low. The wind continued to howl, and Bruce thought he could sense the stirrings of other beings, alive and hungry, as they climbed.