The cycle begins for what it thinks might be the last time, for what it knows isn’t the first. She’s done this before. She’s gotten good at it. She’s playing for the camera this time; she knows it hurts less than her common sense thinks it will, and maybe this time she can finally figure out how to fly. Or maybe she knows that already and wants to show off.
In the slice of one Fool into three, this is the Second fool (and the Last). This is the Crone, the one who doesn’t care any more, the one whose fearlessness makes her free. Or stupid. Your choice. She’s a Fool, after all.