LUDO
Ludo bobbed it’s masked head yes to show that it accepted her decision; quite what would come of all this it did not know - for even the gods could not predict the Voice or her ilk - but action (that did not lead to its loving exile again) was better, indeed, than inaction. Being described as kind, or in any way close to how Mort presented himself, puffed the masked deity full of pride, and a snatch of fabric snaked out to tickle Delphia under the chin in appreciation. “You need not tell me how you came to be, sweetling. I am full aware,” it assured her - though what she had to say on the matter did give it some pause. The Voice sustaining herself on souls? Horrific. “I do not know,” it confessed. “But I suppose by freeing the souls, you will find out. It is not such a far stretch of the imagination to think that may be the case, I will admit.”
