tiger teeth

Frey Beholders beware, there are no safe words Maybe one day these mortals would learn two important things. First, don’t waste the gods’ time. Second, don’t prattle to a being who couldn’t care less about their personal problems. Frey might be single-minded to some, but they knew what they liked and saw very little reason to pretend they were anything other than what they were. Some of their fellow divine beings liked to play games with mortal’s lives, but honestly Frey mostly cared about their sex and love lives and little else. That should already have been more than apparent to the woman. And yet, here she was, whining about how unfair it was that Remi had paid the price for her decision. Well, tough. The gods didn’t see morality in anything close to the same way as these mortals did. Indeed, while Frey might objectively be able to understand morals and ethics and all that silly philosophy nonsense, they didn’t necessarily believe in them or buy into the system at all. It was a bunch of silliness that the mortals bought into to try and give their life some meaning where very little existed. Sighing, clearly bored and annoyed, Frey gave Rexanna a smoldering glare. These mortals really needed to stop asking questions. At the very least they could start asking better ones. It still wouldn't be ideal, but it was better than nothing. ”If you like books so much maybe you should go seek your answers there.” Far better that than risk arousing Frey’s wrath again, which she was getting dangerously close to. Then again, it didn’t take much to anger a god who’d seen pretty much everything under the sun and didn’t care about the mortal’s petty concerns. ”I am not inclined to grant requests to whiney and ignorant supplicants who shower me with cheap and meaningless prattle without even bothering to think through what they’re doing or even try to find out what they can about me in advance. It is not my fault that you’re stupid and reckless.” This woman wasn’t nearly as smart or as prepared as she thought she might be, as evidenced by just how much she was talking without offering anything of substance. Taking another bite of the peach, Frey pushed themselves off the tree trunk and walked around the woman. As they did, they inspected Rexanna, seeing every flaw, every imperfection, inside and out. With just a small twist of their power, they brought it all to the forefront of the woman’s mind, to make her realize just how foolish her actions were, to make her see that an insignificant creature such as she could not dare to make amends with or demands of Frey. ”I care little for your regrets. And your intentions matter even less to me.” Determined Rexanna might be, but Frey was ignoring all that, their voice coming out in a surprisingly languid and bored tone. Just cause a mortal wanted something didn’t mean the gods would be inclined to grant it. In fact, they often wouldn't be. That was especially true in this case, when the request was on behalf of someone else. ”I find it curious that this man you profess to care so much for and for whom this is apparently such a burden isn’t here himself. Clearly this love of his didn’t mean that much after all, if he sends such an inferior representative.” Frey was now being deliberately cruel and mocking. These mortals understood oh so little, especially about love and passion and desire. But it wasn’t necessarily Frey’s place to teach them. Completing the circle, they came to stand before her, and stared at her with impassive eyes. ”I don’t know. What can you do to fix this?” No offer of help would be forthcoming. If Rexanna truly wanted to right what she saw as some sort of wrong, she’d have to do better than this. So far, Frey wasn’t impressed by the so-called diplomat’s skills at negotiation. One party clearly had all the power here, so concession should be offered.