near half-empty

Deimos Libb’s rational notions for explaining why he required a leaf nearly decomposed were understandable. Were he not from multiple worlds where gods designated and granted quests to their inferior beings, he might have done the same thing; striving to comprehend the logic, reasonings, and foundations. “No,” he shook his head, withholding a snort. He appreciated her logical attempts in a land not so grounded, more prone to tactics of magical upheaval, disaster, and mayhem than anything else “I asked for some assistance from Safrin.” For healing, for blessings, for invocations upon the Shield. He wasn’t certain if she even knew anything about the heralds or token gods; though he wouldn’t be the best one to educate or impart his wisdom on the subject. “She wanted five leaves in different stages of decomposition.” Amongst other properties: Libbs could make of that what she wished: he presumed for some soothing, mending, assuaging complexities, or to demonstrate their life and its dwindling properties in tangible form. Then he maneuvered forward, into the opening groves of the forest lining the river, glancing back over his shoulder to ensure she was coming, before sending the penetrating gaze back towards canopies and boughs, looking for the aforementioned curl, the assignation of death hovering on its verdant or browning ends. Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime