For the maiden who grew up under the waterfalls, under the full moon’s solemn tutelage, who now instructs others with her own milky hands. For the damsel with revivifying words and with dreams as luminous as the moonflower vines she weaves into her tresses. For the lady who recognizes embryonic potential amidst abyssal pasts and cultivates the wan seeds to explode into blossoming panoply.

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