Her first words were a relief, though Jigano kept his shoulders straight and his expression as carefully neutral as possible. If Ludo wasn't sick, though (and never would he have thought gods could get sick before Safrin had come down with the blight), it left the mystery of where they were, and if something else had happened to them.
Safrin's next words were a mystery wrapped in rose thorns, and Jigano had been pricked by enough of them over the winter to recognize their sting in the goddess's voice. Humility failed him momentarily as he lifted his chin, blue eyes flickering with stubborn pride. Maybe it was hubris that made him fond of the raggedy god, but he was; protective and worried about the masked spirit guide, and he would not flinch from Safrin's cutting words. "Gladly," he said quietly, voice level and gaze rising to meet the infinite cosmos that looked at him from atop the shrine. "Only tell me where I can find them, and I shall bring enough roses to make even you smile at their bounty and beauty." Except, of course, that they would be for Ludo, not Safrin.
But what was in a name? The flowers would still smell as sweet.
Safrin's next words were a mystery wrapped in rose thorns, and Jigano had been pricked by enough of them over the winter to recognize their sting in the goddess's voice. Humility failed him momentarily as he lifted his chin, blue eyes flickering with stubborn pride. Maybe it was hubris that made him fond of the raggedy god, but he was; protective and worried about the masked spirit guide, and he would not flinch from Safrin's cutting words. "Gladly," he said quietly, voice level and gaze rising to meet the infinite cosmos that looked at him from atop the shrine. "Only tell me where I can find them, and I shall bring enough roses to make even you smile at their bounty and beauty." Except, of course, that they would be for Ludo, not Safrin.
But what was in a name? The flowers would still smell as sweet.
