"Never give your name freely", his mother had always told him. "To tell them your name is to make them /Family? and to give them /Power? over you. Tell it to the one you love, but to no other. To the world, you are /WinterBorn?-/GreyStripe?."
His mother's /Ceremony? was one of the earliest things he remembered. She'd decided it was time - there was nothing left to learn; and it was a kindly priest who kept an eye on him as he watched her enter the circle to /Dance?.
Round and round they went, spinning circles around the fire; until the final leap through its centre that would put her name to sleep.
She was just the same, afterwards. He kept looking for changes, a sign of the transformation that had taken place; but found none. It was probably a good thing. She encountered nothing more, then or since, that needed /Reason; it had indeed been the right time for /Reason to sleep.