take it up now

No, I cannot resist

Marcus kept to the quieter streets s of the Citadel as he made his way toward the shrine, the basket of fruit balanced carefully in his arms. The greenhouse had been warm and bright, glass panes catching the sun and softening it into green-gold light. He had chosen slowly the ripe berries that stained his fingers and a pear heavy with juice. 

Marcus knelt, the stone cool even through his thick pants, and set the offering down with deliberate care. For a moment he only breathed, mind whirling with the idea of what Frey would be when they -- if they -- came this time. Marcus swallowed. He bowed his head, hands resting open on his knees, "Frey" He started, voice cracking slightly as his nerves sparked light shocks at the edges of him. He cleared his throat, eyes moving down from the shrine to the frost at his knees, "I was coming to ask if I could do something to earn another shift."

---

Marcus is praying to Frey for a shift quest!

Every time your gravity has a hold on me

A dry and crisp wind blows hollowly through the shrine. Cold fingers twine through Marcus' hair but his call remains unanswered and the Shrine remains quiet.

No, I cannot resist

Marcus stayed a moment longer, letting the dry, hollow wind wrap around him, curling through his hair like fingers that did not quite belong. It wasn’t the fingers that could have been moving through his hair, he knew that, and the sparks of his nerves settled to a mere static tingle at his fingertips. The cold settled heavier in his bones, and he rose slowly, brushing the frost from his knees.

The berries had shifted in the basket, but nothing else came. He gave the shrine a quiet glance, a half-bow of respect. No voice answered, no warmth spread, but that was okay. He carried the quiet with him, a small, stubborn ember of intention he could still nurture elsewhere.

FIN

Every time your gravity has a hold on me