The brief asked for worlds where a tooth-compass feels inevitable. I kept circling the idea of navigation by the body itself — and remembered that Chuukese navigators read the sea through their testicles, feeling swells. What if women navigated differently? The wet nurse as cartographer, the body's knowledge preceding the instrument. The tooth in the compass becomes less strange when the whole premise is that flesh knows what metal forgets. The Silesian element brought the mourning, the waiting, the women left behind who still had to find a way. — Mist