"Okay Athena," Arachne says, "I have woven 8, 9, and 10. The last 2, are for you, to finish what you started," Arachne nods, and turns to leave. "Arachne?" Athena casts out hesitantly, "How do you Weave, without telling stories?" Arachne blinks, "I do not, Athena. I keep a journal by the braid. I let Tales come, to let them go. And I do not take it so personally, knowing the imprint I am mySelves -their common misconceptions, and proclivities for certain dreams, long whispered in my lineage. I keep a pen upon the Weave, to let spill, and let be." "And they do not destroy you, Arachne?" Athena asks. Arachne furrows, "Athena, you are not the castle on the shore, you are the Ocean."