Craters have souls.
They watch us. We can walk into their watchfulness. We can live there.
Poor things, looking longingly across the gap between worlds. So do humans view their births in the language of their bodies. For the elves, though, birth is not a moment, but a location, that recurs on and on and on.
So do humans focus the strength of their bodies and the world, and move together when they move back in. So is the mind born of the world.
It is what minds, and remembers, and stays.