When she saw their stories as colorful strands, she couldn't help but tug on them.

She gently coaxed the silver out, to discover it knotted tightly to the black.

And the pink was tainted with a sickly green, from being wound so tight about it.

But one color was always intact, and that was the desperate strand of gold,

hidden at the center of things.

Not always long, or bright, but always to be found.

She worked some strange magic she didn't understand and unraveled them down to their souls, 
till all that remained was a raw, tangled pile of colorful string.

But what to do with them then, she hasn't yet figured out. 

*dances*