[Crane identifies the cycle that has trapped his guest: confusion begetting anxiety, anxiety becoming fear. He thinks the younger god cannot stop to study himself, to see the spiral he is entering. It makes him pause. Really, is it any wonder mortals associate him with a spiral? The beginning of a cycle, each and every turn different and no end.
He purses his lips and murmurs, ignoring how the light is being broken and dissolved in the deep.]
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He purses his lips and murmurs, ignoring how the light is being broken and dissolved in the deep.]
Ah, but is life ever what we imagine it to be?