I'm not the only one
Who finds it hard to understand
Godly?
Mallorie remembers gods being mentioned here, but the mention of direct intervention surprises her. She assumed it was largely superstition and people holding fast to tradition rather than tales of active involvement. She doesn’t say more on the subject in case Kiada is particularly religious, but she frowns minutely.
Staying somewhere you don’t trust for lack of choice is uncomfortably close to home, and she gives Kiada a sideways look when she mentions how many worlds she’s apparently been in.
“Is this place prone to spitting people out again?” She’s struggled enough to get used to this land, the idea that it might happen again is more than a little disconcerting.
When Kiada moves, Mallorie follows, a step or so slower as she ruminates on what she’s learnt. She’s also found that the locals have generally been accepting, the occasional hairy eye notwithstanding. There are worse places she could have been dropped, all things considered. Helping to carry supplies sounds like something she can do - solid, tangible help she can offer - and she nods.
The sound of the whistle catches her attention and she tenses a little. A reaction she has yet to lose to a perceived disturbance, whether it involves her or not. She watches Kiada defuse the situation a little warily - this isn’t her place to overstep, much as habit makes her want to. She keeps her eyes on the hunters who seem reluctant to settle, and lets Kiada lead. They’re her people, after all.
Her hand twitches behind her back.
“Are you a guard?”
Mallorie remembers gods being mentioned here, but the mention of direct intervention surprises her. She assumed it was largely superstition and people holding fast to tradition rather than tales of active involvement. She doesn’t say more on the subject in case Kiada is particularly religious, but she frowns minutely.
Staying somewhere you don’t trust for lack of choice is uncomfortably close to home, and she gives Kiada a sideways look when she mentions how many worlds she’s apparently been in.
“Is this place prone to spitting people out again?” She’s struggled enough to get used to this land, the idea that it might happen again is more than a little disconcerting.
When Kiada moves, Mallorie follows, a step or so slower as she ruminates on what she’s learnt. She’s also found that the locals have generally been accepting, the occasional hairy eye notwithstanding. There are worse places she could have been dropped, all things considered. Helping to carry supplies sounds like something she can do - solid, tangible help she can offer - and she nods.
The sound of the whistle catches her attention and she tenses a little. A reaction she has yet to lose to a perceived disturbance, whether it involves her or not. She watches Kiada defuse the situation a little warily - this isn’t her place to overstep, much as habit makes her want to. She keeps her eyes on the hunters who seem reluctant to settle, and lets Kiada lead. They’re her people, after all.
Her hand twitches behind her back.
“Are you a guard?”
I'm not afraid of God
I am afraid of Man
MALLORIE
Base Code by Sky!
