the Voice
"You did all the work, my bright one. I merely put the pieces together for you. Be careful with that eye, now. It might see more than it ought to, at times." Her smile to Nate is playful and enigmatic, a pragmatic suggestion to monitor the prosthetic rather than a warning. And she releases him, accustomed to his leaving as soon as their business is concluded, but he speaks again and the goddess before him seems to soften.
Guiding them back into the shelter of the shrine, even if it matters to neither of them if they should get wet from the storm, the Voice listens. She listens and she seems to glow with pride, with ambition. "That would be quite something," she informs him. "And it sounds like just the sort of place that would be perfect for the family. Is it not dangerous, though? A place so hot?"
Guiding them back into the shelter of the shrine, even if it matters to neither of them if they should get wet from the storm, the Voice listens. She listens and she seems to glow with pride, with ambition. "That would be quite something," she informs him. "And it sounds like just the sort of place that would be perfect for the family. Is it not dangerous, though? A place so hot?"
