"I don't like that." Phoebe admitted as she tossed the chicken in the honey sauce. "It makes it sound...cult like rather than a god and devotee." Which to her were two very different things. Frey advised and guided her, but rarely prescribed things. A mother though? Part of the job was prescribing doctrine so your child could flourish in society.
"I hadn't." she said. "But I'm not sure people would come. All of the things that make the Greatwood wonderful aren't as...flashy as what the other regions have." The Greatwood was tranquil and mysterious. But Stormbreak was god blessed, Torchline one big party, Halo a frozen wasteland but filled with activity. They only place they had a one up on was the Hollowed Grounds. "But do you think something like that would help?" she asked, pouring the glazed chicken into a bowl.
"I hadn't." she said. "But I'm not sure people would come. All of the things that make the Greatwood wonderful aren't as...flashy as what the other regions have." The Greatwood was tranquil and mysterious. But Stormbreak was god blessed, Torchline one big party, Halo a frozen wasteland but filled with activity. They only place they had a one up on was the Hollowed Grounds. "But do you think something like that would help?" she asked, pouring the glazed chicken into a bowl.
the nightingale
laughter is the language of the soul
