[open] she sells sea shells

"If it's not something I've felt before, then the first time will be all educational." Osozo insists softly, though there is more than a little uncertainty in the angle of their brows, in the sickly orange their hair shifts to. They're going to have a lot to think about after this, a lot of information to digest, to compartmentalize. Osozo notices the people walking by in the marketplace, as much as they notice anyone, no more than short glances, interest in peoples clothing, how they wear their hair. They don't notice they're keeping people away, if anything, they're more than pleased with the steady stream of passer-bys, though their focus is locked on the woman who's helped them for such a long time now. "I've been staying in the caves, under the settlement? If you go to the mouth and shout, then I will hear you. Or... just find an ascended, I suppose?" An offering required a touch more thought. The bond they had with the Voice was different than others, they could approach a shrine with nothing, and still see their Mother. "I think... it's best to bring an offering. She likes... useful things, I suppose. Or tokens of other places." It's vague, and they admit that with a shrug of their shoulders, but they're not sure what else would suffice. osozo Electrifying mine chambers wholly scorching out thine sovereignty