what makes a desert beautiful...is that it hides a well, somewhere
Though the desert exists all around them still, a sweetly scented breeze curls around the four figures who stand by the shrine of bones. Flowers press themselves up from the soil in an array of colours rarely if ever witnessed in the desert. Life stretches and reaches for the God of Death, eager and joyful for his presence, as he appears from nothing at all.
'I have heard your prayers, Remi Taliesin, and I appreciate your patience. I know that it hasn't been easy on you...on any of you.' Mort's gaze is first for the Lullaby, before moving to Hotaru, and finally to Flora and Mateo. He is boyish in his simplicity, and as commanding as he is kind. Smiling, Mort closes his dark eyes and as he does, golden light pulses from behind him, forming slowly into the silhouette of a door that is gradually filled with pure white. "Much as I would like to speak with each of you...there is someone here I think you would like to see far more."
Stepping aside, a shadow blurs the light, growing ever more solid as the figure nears.
'I have heard your prayers, Remi Taliesin, and I appreciate your patience. I know that it hasn't been easy on you...on any of you.' Mort's gaze is first for the Lullaby, before moving to Hotaru, and finally to Flora and Mateo. He is boyish in his simplicity, and as commanding as he is kind. Smiling, Mort closes his dark eyes and as he does, golden light pulses from behind him, forming slowly into the silhouette of a door that is gradually filled with pure white. "Much as I would like to speak with each of you...there is someone here I think you would like to see far more."
Stepping aside, a shadow blurs the light, growing ever more solid as the figure nears.
