The Bosmer Spinner stood before the rising moons, a shadow fingering a belt of glittering shells. "Heavy-bearded Y'ffre, speak through me. Tell us of the time before time. Let the story grow in me. Let my heart echo to the pounding of your feet along the story-lines, the bones of the world. I will walk Your steps, and know Your story." The Spinner's eyes flickered closed. His fingertips slid along the belt, picking out the shape and orientation of the shells. He raised a foot, and with deliberation stamped it on the ground.