“
Unlike Te Kā, the mother island smelled of fresh moss drenched with river water, and her stare did not scald Moana--- though something ancient stirred within the facets of the goddess's gemstone eyes.
I know who you are, Moana.
Moana trembled under the goddess's watch as Te Fiti's voice lilted through her mind, light as a breeze.
Now you see, the goddess told her, and a warmth shivered across Moana's skin. The goddess's hand hovered in the air, and Moana felt her power coarse through her cursed arm and shoulder, cleansing her skin of the black veins and stone that encased her palm, wrist, neck, and jaw. Instead, where the goddess's hand passed, flowers and moss crawled up Moana's arm, tickling her skin with their petals and plush leaves.
”
”