Luna's mind is not suited to shields and barriers.

She is too used to accept, to welcome – ideas and people and mysteries and creatures few can see and the infinite myriad of possibilities of the many many futures around her, multiplying and ever-changing and unravelling and reforming.

She understands, however, the importance of protecting her mind, her thoughts, her secrets.

She has friends now, and they can be hurt if she's careless.

But it's alright.

She can't put enclosures and boned threads and brick walls around her mind – that's just not her – but just because a place is welcoming doesn't mean it's actually pleasant to be in.

Her mind is a maze of mirrors all reflecting one another, confusing and distorting and altering in an endless feast of colours and sands and ideas and memories and fantasies and music and things that were, blending into things that are, blending into things that will perhaps come to pass, twisting and changing and busting in fireworks of sparkling colours and she knows, her secrets are safe, her friends protected.

For who but her could hope to sort through that beautiful, captivating, headache-inducing kaleidoscope?

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