KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
"Ah. I'm gonna have to work on that, then," he commented dryly. Considering he couldn't even recall the one time he'd seen a god... if he'd even seen it... there was some relation building to be done.
He frowned into the whiteness of the snow as he mulled over the next response. "Are you sure it's not the other way around?" he asked, almost too quietly to be heard. It felt like a dangerous area to be making guesses, but... "What if magic is what made the gods in the first place? It would explain how The Voice could do what she did... and why they've become so shy about dealing with it. Maybe someone got too close to the truth."
And maybe it was time for him to shut up and keep walking. The skin between his shoulderblades fairly crawled with unease, and he felt very exposed, for some reason.
He frowned into the whiteness of the snow as he mulled over the next response. "Are you sure it's not the other way around?" he asked, almost too quietly to be heard. It felt like a dangerous area to be making guesses, but... "What if magic is what made the gods in the first place? It would explain how The Voice could do what she did... and why they've become so shy about dealing with it. Maybe someone got too close to the truth."
And maybe it was time for him to shut up and keep walking. The skin between his shoulderblades fairly crawled with unease, and he felt very exposed, for some reason.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
