"Aye, I saw your second lad walking out on the moors on the fourteenth of last december. He was in good spirits, dabbling in something mighty fierce, and talking with the air. We let him walk, lest he'd haul us into his lyrical sorcery, and bring us to ruin."
Aging and accompanying biological factors have those colorful splotches not too far off the fulcrum of the essence.
And saying much more would only obfuscate, so hello end of file....