At home, it would have been no more than a pile of rock.

Some of the rock piles they built are still there.

Smoke still found its way out of the rock pile.

That way, they could always see the next pile of rocks.

Until those came on, all he'd seen was a pile of rocks.

Climbing the rest of the rock pile took longer than a moment.

Red Hand had every right to pray on a rock pile if he wanted to.

Beyond the second rock pile, chaos was working and building.

"Why aren't we simply going over that pile of rock?"

But out here on my rock pile I've had a lot of time to think.