Phoebe
Phoebe blinked, both surprised and somehow...not? She had known somehow that Remi now led the Greatwood but...it had been far from the forefront of her mind. Remi was many things that were much more important to her than his political status. But she smiled warmly, laughing a bit. "I suppose you are, now aren't you? It seems people will follow you wherever you go." she said with a cheeky grin. First Torchline, now here. Even before his voice had held great weight in the Hollowed Grounds - at least she had always thought so. Yet it seemed he did in fact lack the other death associated demigoddess' aid in his endeavors. "A shame really...It would be nice I think to have the view point of someone born into this role in all of this...mess." she said with a sad sigh. Divine wars, impending doom, old versus new...surely there was some depth they were missing!
As he described Mort to her, a beautiful ode to a god who seemed naught but pure goodness...the Nightingale could not help but feel guilt and self doubt begin to creep up in her gut. "I hope someday to meet him while I am yet alive." she said softly, a sad smile upon her lips as she gazed down at the infant in her arms. She had not been reborn when the highest of the old gods had called upon them all. She had not seen the faces of the three almighty the Heralds served, and she in turn. It was hard to not feel insignificant and useless in the presence of one so blessed to have seen them all and even met some more personally. What was she missing, not doing - what bar was she not reaching - to be worthy of such note, to be equal to her peers? Perhaps it was simply not meant to be. What use was a midwife to Vi or Mort or Rae after all? "I...hate to admit that I am jealous of your blessings." she said with a light laugh.
But the news twisted her expression into one of horror. Though Sunjata was by far one of her least favorite people - in competition with Bastien of course - to lose a companion was incomprehensible. Thoughts of losing Pim or Branbast...she shivered, holding Enzo closer as though to shield him from the dread she felt. "I...if this is a foreshadowing of the suffering to come, I can't imagine what will become of Caido..." she said softly. To have a piece of one's own soul killed...no wonder Frey had given her the task of preserving what little hope they might have.
As he described Mort to her, a beautiful ode to a god who seemed naught but pure goodness...the Nightingale could not help but feel guilt and self doubt begin to creep up in her gut. "I hope someday to meet him while I am yet alive." she said softly, a sad smile upon her lips as she gazed down at the infant in her arms. She had not been reborn when the highest of the old gods had called upon them all. She had not seen the faces of the three almighty the Heralds served, and she in turn. It was hard to not feel insignificant and useless in the presence of one so blessed to have seen them all and even met some more personally. What was she missing, not doing - what bar was she not reaching - to be worthy of such note, to be equal to her peers? Perhaps it was simply not meant to be. What use was a midwife to Vi or Mort or Rae after all? "I...hate to admit that I am jealous of your blessings." she said with a light laugh.
But the news twisted her expression into one of horror. Though Sunjata was by far one of her least favorite people - in competition with Bastien of course - to lose a companion was incomprehensible. Thoughts of losing Pim or Branbast...she shivered, holding Enzo closer as though to shield him from the dread she felt. "I...if this is a foreshadowing of the suffering to come, I can't imagine what will become of Caido..." she said softly. To have a piece of one's own soul killed...no wonder Frey had given her the task of preserving what little hope they might have.
not many knew her struggle
but eventually all knew her light
