Jiao
Your clothes never wear as well the next day
And your hair never falls in quite the same way
You never seem to run out of things to say
And your hair never falls in quite the same way
You never seem to run out of things to say
Jiao was a little surprised by how willing Killian was to sit down and lay his world's violent history bare, having found that often people were put off by her curiosity. But she was glad to listen and sat with her knees drawn up, watching him speak with an intensity that was not usual in most people.
Gods...splitting up territory rather than just areas of power was alien to her, an odd idea. That the Divine could be so interested in mortal land as to divide it up...it seemed almost comically silly. If Safrin came down and tried to take a chunk of land for herself, Jiao couldn't imagine what it would be like. This idea, and the promise of a story of war, kept her listening.
"Huh. Why didn't you just tell the Gods no? If all of you did, then they'd have no people left if they killed you all." She stated this as if it were amazingly simple, something plain and obvious that Killian should have tried right away. "Or...are you actually that loyal? What do you think of the Gods here?"
