the Voice
The Voice says nothing to his floundering and backpedalling sidestepping, which should be enough of an answer in and of itself. She merely stands before the shrine where Nate sits, as if he is the god and she is the mortal, though of course they both know better than that. "There is no way to know that, Nate," she explains softly. "Or rather, the only way to reduce the chances of it happening are to ensure it yourself." To become strong. To become the protecting force that prevents harm.
And what more can he do? The Voice softens here somewhat, flickering with static. "There is precious little I can give that you do not already know. Or if not you, then your brothers and your sisters. I suggest you speak with them before you petition me." Bastien, Samuel. Holes for peeping. A search in the ruins of the Grounds.
And what more can he do? The Voice softens here somewhat, flickering with static. "There is precious little I can give that you do not already know. Or if not you, then your brothers and your sisters. I suggest you speak with them before you petition me." Bastien, Samuel. Holes for peeping. A search in the ruins of the Grounds.
