And I bargained for a chain. A metre long, it is finely wrought of gleaming gold, the links delicate and strong. They sing like rain when poured into a pile upon fingers. It is fashioned into a lead, and comes with an equally fine mesh collar, two fingers wide and woven to drape around one’s throat like a second skin of gilt scales. For something that may only see one use, if that, it was frightfully expensive. No matter. I wanted it. We wanted it. All of my Selves, in accord, a three part harmony of an internal ‘Yes’.