Thal absorbs the information in silence, wondering what parts of herself would exist in a 'better' version of her, and what she would leave behind in the process. It gives her a lot to consider, but it will take time and self-reflection. For now, she's just satisfied to know that's it's possible, and that she can turn to Asta for advice on the matter (as a last resort of course).
One of his other comments catches her attention, and Thal smiles playfully as she quietly asks, "You didn't know how to read or write?" Although she knows he's old, she didn't think he was older than the written word. Even she - who'd apparently grown up under water then subsequently lost all her memories - knew how to read. There's no judgement, but it does make her curious as to how he'd come to learn the skill.
She hands the dagger to the next Ancient, working into a rhythm of oiling and offering weapons. It's becoming more comfortable, and her stern expression begins to soften to something resembling contentment. Even mention of curses doesn't bring more than a concentrated scowl to her face. "I can't blame any of you. It's not an enjoyable experience and I was angry for a time after that." Angry with Dygra. Angry with herself. Angry at the world. But that emotion had been misguided and misplaced. When she'd finally realized that and returned to the shrine, Dygra had been there with open arms. "She was pleased, and I felt..." Her eyes raise, searching for the word before it comes to her, softly. "loved." Thal shrugs her shoulders to release the heaviness of the emotion while she hands the sword off to another. "It's hard not to feel a connection to her. You know?" Unlike other deities, their relationship is one of parent and children, full of seeking approval and familial bonds. Having finally met Dygra, she can't imagine how she was every angry with the goddess.
One of his other comments catches her attention, and Thal smiles playfully as she quietly asks, "You didn't know how to read or write?" Although she knows he's old, she didn't think he was older than the written word. Even she - who'd apparently grown up under water then subsequently lost all her memories - knew how to read. There's no judgement, but it does make her curious as to how he'd come to learn the skill.
She hands the dagger to the next Ancient, working into a rhythm of oiling and offering weapons. It's becoming more comfortable, and her stern expression begins to soften to something resembling contentment. Even mention of curses doesn't bring more than a concentrated scowl to her face. "I can't blame any of you. It's not an enjoyable experience and I was angry for a time after that." Angry with Dygra. Angry with herself. Angry at the world. But that emotion had been misguided and misplaced. When she'd finally realized that and returned to the shrine, Dygra had been there with open arms. "She was pleased, and I felt..." Her eyes raise, searching for the word before it comes to her, softly. "loved." Thal shrugs her shoulders to release the heaviness of the emotion while she hands the sword off to another. "It's hard not to feel a connection to her. You know?" Unlike other deities, their relationship is one of parent and children, full of seeking approval and familial bonds. Having finally met Dygra, she can't imagine how she was every angry with the goddess.
thalassa
so don't waste the time i don't have
