Pig × The Lone Edge
It can speak the cut to the vital point too, but once cut it lets go, holding no grudge.
The Lone Edge speaks the cut straight to the vital point, the lofty solitary star, the way Deneb hangs high and far in a Cold Moon over a lone peak. The Pig in you can name the sharp truth too, but once it is said, you let it go and hold no grudge. So the blade lands precise and leaves nothing behind it, no resentment banked, no enemy made.
Most of this type cut and then keep the wound warm on both sides. You add depth to the sharpness and then add ease on top. You strike the real issue without striking the person, which makes you the most thorough there is at facing the matter and not the human holding it. People can take hard truth from you because it arrives clean, with no contempt riding along, and it is over the moment it is spoken.
The fault line is the thing you laugh off that needed pressing. Too open-handed, you wave away a matter that should have been driven to the end, and the edge shines for nothing. The high waning gibbous is already past its peak, and your resolve fades with it. When something genuinely needs to be pressed all the way through, the easy forgiveness that usually serves you well becomes the reason the cut never finishes its work.
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A mirror, not a prophecy. It reflects you as you are right now. How you walk is still yours to choose.