She watches this thoughtfully; the steady flow of life into the dying weave.

And isn't this how life works? she thinks. How an organism lives? Always dying, always being renewed. Life isn't just growth. Growth alone is cancer.

She begins to feel it again--the warmth of the Light of Creation on her skin, through paint and black gloves. She can feel the nosebleed starting--and then healing, drying uncomfortably. Her jaw trembles; she knows if she says anything she'll lose it.