frey
"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?" Frey drawled with a pretend pout. Their hands were on their hips as they gazed down at the dead bird that the dragonling had offered as a gift. "Either eat it, or let it live. I don't much care for rotting things." They added, leaning down and collecting the dead creature. In an instant, it breezed apart, particles of the once-living thing taken away by an intangible wind.
Yawning, the god rose, arms crossed. "Off your knees poppet, unless that pretty face is part of your offerings as well?" The god grinned, though at the mention of the blight, they grew stern.
"What do you think it is?" Frey asked, eyes narrowing slightly, interested to know what the midwife made of the problem.
Yawning, the god rose, arms crossed. "Off your knees poppet, unless that pretty face is part of your offerings as well?" The god grinned, though at the mention of the blight, they grew stern.
"What do you think it is?" Frey asked, eyes narrowing slightly, interested to know what the midwife made of the problem.
