The Houses are not scattered — they are a path. A woman moves from her wild, untamed nature, through the deeper arts she must master, and into her ascension — the hunt, grace, and the golden reign. Then the wheel turns again.
Where the serpent takes its tail into its mouth — at the crown of the wheel, over the Mare's wild spark — the circle closes and opens again: the cycle of the Maison, and of every woman within it, turning without end.