A warm flush of satisfied pleasure dusts across Cera's cheeks at Smith's delighted laughter and subsequent assurances. Clearly he had found a friend and kindred spirit, and though Smith's words echo in his head reminding him that Smith cannot escort him the entirety of the way to the town. He hopes quietly to himself that he will see him again, that this is not the end of their budding friendship. Instead of fearing their inevitable departure, he listens intently to the information as it's shared. It's almost like a high, and he can't seem to focus on anything else. It's hard enough putting one foot in front of the other with such tantalizing information on offer. A wry smile twists his lips and he gazes out across the horizon.
"Yes, Gods are often...tempestuous." It's a carefully spoken sentence, but one that's laced with fond amusement. Celestial beings were not known for their patience, and their grudges were fittingly cosmic. Cera never thought to try to understand them,focusing instead on matters within his control. Like the shift, which Smith seemed to have confidence he would master swiftly. "Ah, but isn't it bold to say I can know the shape of my own soul? I'm sure others perceive me differently," he quips playfully, unable to help the philosophy of it all. Not his normal concentration of intellect, but one he'd honed as a Diviner for many years.
To hear the Gods were as fickle and perhaps even more manipulative than even the Goddess in her unknown ways had been, it was no comfort. Still, he knew the games that deities liked to play. Their machinations were not unknown to him. Though he would not seek them out for quite some time until he knew which God - if any - he would deign to swear fealty to, the cautionary words were nonetheless appreciated.
"Seeking out a God of any kind is a gamble, and never one to be taken lightly," he sighs knowingly, a hint of a frown playing at his mouth. Humming softly he turns his eyes back to the road, reluctant to shift his head too far lest he disturb Isuma from her perch.
"This town, what can you tell me about it? Are there shops, professions? Social structure is so complex," he bemoans playfully. "I used to be a forger, a soldier, a medic," he lists in a soft drawl. "Is there any place I can put those skills to use?" Being directionless had never done Cera any favors, had only left him far too alone with his thoughts. Never a good thing.
