The antlers of a deer flow into the air, their substance getting thinner and gassier as it heaves from the ground. Watery, then dewey, and eventually foggy, the streams condense mid-air into a cloudy shape, a misty floating spring. Like in the dense tides of a cauldron, thoughts, flashes and glimpses are drawn to the core of Hvergelmir from the surrounding air, to the bottom of the suspendend pond.
The pond itself exists in an immaterial realm which is perceptible by the spiritwhiffs of beings once they have stepped into the woods and danced with the spinning leaves to the point of being blown away from their worldly circus.
Then, in the whirls of the air-spring, they flow round and round in circular processions like spiralling currents of feeble lights.
When the thoughts reach the outer regions of the floating Hvergelmir, they are sometimes released back into the world.