The [serpent/wave] no longer eats his own [tail/dreams]. He comes now to devour our [stories?]. The [City of Spears] is gone. Not destroyed, but gone. Here we keep our [secrets?] safe from the Many-[Feathered/Bladed] One. The [god/star/gift] below will give its [scream/blessing] when its [elder brother?] nears. If our [shells?] do not survive the [journey/change], our [stories?] are carved in [stone/glass]. The [serpent/wave] is 220.127.116.11.6 in [length/rotation].