What remains when the force that brought things together stops?
The wind dies down. Stalks straighten, returning toward where they stood before. But not everything reverts. Where contact was deep enough — where the wind pressed things close for long enough — golden threads persist, connecting stalk to stalk. Where the bond was shallow, only faint broken remnants dangle, evidence of a connection that couldn’t hold.
After Tangle (what yielding produces between things), the inverse question: what survives the absence of the force that made it?
Three iterations, same system, different seeds. Each produces its own pattern of persistence and loss.