Oh, you say you have to fall apart to really be someone
Pouring more of the water on the planted rose and rinsing dark soil from her hands, Maea didn't answer right away. It was difficult to put words to her misgivings without explaining everything about her history with the gods, and the few kernels of information she had learned about Dygra. It was next to nothing, really, precious scarce tidbits; very precarious to build a new life around.
"I have yet to meet Dygra, so I don't know," she admitted eventually "though I was told that she is the opposite to Caido. The 'blood and bones', chaos and darkness, and... Doesn't a race of predators sort of imply a lack of care for the living? Would it not tear you apart over time, to befriend people and care for them while instincts tell you that they are prey?" Was she the only one who felt that? Or were these others just better at ignoring the bloodlust? Picking at the seam to her boots, Maea's shoulders crept up toward her ears, fed by worries she couldn't put words to.
"It just feels like I shouldn't be bothered by certain things. But I am." In comparison, Danta's carefree attitude had seemed very refreshing. Appealing indeed, for someone like her who lived so much in her oen head.
Looking up, Maea fixed her near colorless eyes on Tal, curious about his remark about the Maverick. "Do you know Danta? Is he... not a good person?" Her experience with the Ancient had only been good, and it made her wonder if something had happened that she didn't know about. At least she had a face to the name in his case; she didn't know the others mentioned, though Edmund's name was naggingly familiar.
"I have yet to meet Dygra, so I don't know," she admitted eventually "though I was told that she is the opposite to Caido. The 'blood and bones', chaos and darkness, and... Doesn't a race of predators sort of imply a lack of care for the living? Would it not tear you apart over time, to befriend people and care for them while instincts tell you that they are prey?" Was she the only one who felt that? Or were these others just better at ignoring the bloodlust? Picking at the seam to her boots, Maea's shoulders crept up toward her ears, fed by worries she couldn't put words to.
"It just feels like I shouldn't be bothered by certain things. But I am." In comparison, Danta's carefree attitude had seemed very refreshing. Appealing indeed, for someone like her who lived so much in her oen head.
Looking up, Maea fixed her near colorless eyes on Tal, curious about his remark about the Maverick. "Do you know Danta? Is he... not a good person?" Her experience with the Ancient had only been good, and it made her wonder if something had happened that she didn't know about. At least she had a face to the name in his case; she didn't know the others mentioned, though Edmund's name was naggingly familiar.
