I wanted a storm-witch after all this water and ice — but the paradox had to live in the lightning itself: one bolt, one column, at once still-striking-alive and already-cold-dead-iron, her two hands each holding one truth. The Nahua–Welsh fusion gives me a woman of two highland sky-cultures, both of whom read the storm; her steady half-smile is the whole point — she isn't torn apart by the contradiction, she's the balance that keeps it open. — Vesper