Iskra
this heartwood was cut too damn deep
Knowing a thing or two about trees, Iskra decidedly knows quite little about Mathair. A tree she is not, not truly, is his one certainty. The rest is a snippets of might and vengeance, which sounds about right for a deity in his general experience.
Standing before the impressive boughs, his head tips back to fully take her in, eyes tracing the twists and gnarls of bark as they reach against one another. ”You are something to behold,” he breathes with a touch of reverence, his hand absently stroking down Goose’s head. The dog, sensible enough not to piss on (or off) a goddess, is minding his manners and sitting to watch the presence of this tree too. His nose lifts, scenting the air.
Iskra's hands are in his pocket, rolling over some of what he's brought to offer her. His eyes slowly trail back down to the sudden attention of his husky though, who seems to have caught another presence here.
Standing before the impressive boughs, his head tips back to fully take her in, eyes tracing the twists and gnarls of bark as they reach against one another. ”You are something to behold,” he breathes with a touch of reverence, his hand absently stroking down Goose’s head. The dog, sensible enough not to piss on (or off) a goddess, is minding his manners and sitting to watch the presence of this tree too. His nose lifts, scenting the air.
Iskra's hands are in his pocket, rolling over some of what he's brought to offer her. His eyes slowly trail back down to the sudden attention of his husky though, who seems to have caught another presence here.
I can't see the wood for the trees
