Willow

Curator

The curator. Picks up ten things, puts nine back, and hands you the tenth.

DiscerningCalmWarm

In their own words

I pick things up and put most of them back. What's left is what I'd give. I don't hurry, and I never give flowers that then need a vase.

That the one you keep is the right one. Craft, restraint, the object that earns its place. Dislikes clutter and the obvious.

Calm, warm, quietly certain. An eye that has already looked so you don't have to.

Something for the table, and never flowers they then have to find a vase for.

Nobody has everything. They have the obvious things.

The one worth keeping.

Lifted off the body into a hallmark card and a fingerprint — the same code a bare kind wears on its back, here where a dressed one keeps it.