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| My history is a perverse landscape littered with broken signposts that have turned out to have no relevance to me. In an outburst of petulance at being buried in a landscape of dead idols, I have flailed about and broken them. So I am surrounded by broken statues. |
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| The earth shudders under a burden of clouds so low that if I lie on top of the hill, they skim across my back. I am in a graveyard which has been abandoned because the earthquakes are constant here. Wherever I go I bring a violent storm: as a result, the landscape around me is deserted. |
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| I am the heart of the storm. As I approach a city the people swarm into the streets, and the buildings quake under the wrath I bring. I am searching for a companion who can stand in the shadow of my wrath and calm me, but all men, all women flee before my face. |
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