He had heard of Arduinna approached with respect, and with fear before, but those had all been mortal concerns. It made sense that the gods were less concerned with even powerful mortals, though that was no reason for him to be less impressed - or less wary - of the Wild Fae.
He ducked his head, a little bob of apology as Safrin offered little tidbits of information on the Fae, but seemed... unimpressed? Bored? with his questions and reasoning. In truth he did not know how to approach this glittering goddess, following always before in Amalia's footsteps. He had come to her now with hope that, as before, she would share knowledge with those who prayed to her for it. Vi was the god of life, and she was his right hand... or so he had thought. Surely a god of life would care about a blight on that life in the Greatwood?
Or... had he misunderstood?
So if you do not recognize it, either... is there no way to stop its spread? To protect the Greatwood? he asked, subdued and uneasy as he shifted from foot to foot, looking from the star-brushed lily in her hand to the offering left untouched upon the altar. His own gift was such a washed out, drab blossom in comparison, as delicate and easily bruised as his pride these days, it felt like. At least, that you know of? Between Zariah and the fallout from her grab for power and this disease infecting the first place they had been allowed to learn of outside the barrier, it felt like many of the good things he had finally found were beginning to crumble, and he reached desperately for any flicker of light and hope he could use to bolster his own courage against the coming dark.
He ducked his head, a little bob of apology as Safrin offered little tidbits of information on the Fae, but seemed... unimpressed? Bored? with his questions and reasoning. In truth he did not know how to approach this glittering goddess, following always before in Amalia's footsteps. He had come to her now with hope that, as before, she would share knowledge with those who prayed to her for it. Vi was the god of life, and she was his right hand... or so he had thought. Surely a god of life would care about a blight on that life in the Greatwood?
Or... had he misunderstood?
So if you do not recognize it, either... is there no way to stop its spread? To protect the Greatwood? he asked, subdued and uneasy as he shifted from foot to foot, looking from the star-brushed lily in her hand to the offering left untouched upon the altar. His own gift was such a washed out, drab blossom in comparison, as delicate and easily bruised as his pride these days, it felt like. At least, that you know of? Between Zariah and the fallout from her grab for power and this disease infecting the first place they had been allowed to learn of outside the barrier, it felt like many of the good things he had finally found were beginning to crumble, and he reached desperately for any flicker of light and hope he could use to bolster his own courage against the coming dark.
