Just off the road you grow toward, a trail branches into the wild ground past the fence, and the gate along it hangs ajar. Lilith, the Black Moon at the lunar apogee, the untamed self, makes a sextile to the north node, the lunar point of the direction you reach for. The opening is offered, never forced. Let the part of you that got sent away help pick the next step, and the way forward picks up a wildness it was missing. The gate moves only under your hand: the day you stop leaving the unruly self at the fence and let it walk a little way down the road you are headed, teeth and all.