He is only responsible for helping those people realize their wishes. The thread is broken, it happens by chance, and who is crying has nothing to do with him.
Sawdust fell onto the stone table, and the warmth in the tea cup had long since disappeared. He was sculpting and squinting his narrow phoenix eyes to look at the puppet that was about to be completed in his hand. He curled his lips.
A puppet show, who will be crying...
Intention: