[se] wildest dreams

You made yourself a bed
At the bottom of the blackest hole

Talk of the gods always made Alys's skin itch. She'd hated them for so long that she wasn't sure what to do with her newfound tolerance. She was a creature of habit, of stability: change didn't come easily to the seer, even less so when the proposed change was one within her own mind. Still, she also knew that she had to adapt to survive, and so adapt she did - even when it meant questioning the very foundation of her existence.

As Tal talked, Alys took another sip of her drink, then set her glass down. Propping her head on her other hand, she ran a finger around the rim of the glass. "I haven't, really," she admitted, making a face. "I never really thought I'd have need of armor, but I suppose with Safrin gone... well, anything's possible." She still wasn't sure what to make of the herald's disappearance, except that it couldn't be a sign of anything good. "I thought about maybe something to help with my Sight," she said. "I read the tarot, and I'm alright with other forms of divination, but I thought maybe... maybe the gods could give me something more solid? I dunno," she hurried to add. "That's probably silly."

And convinced yourself that
It's not the reason you don't see the sun anymore

Alys