Ill-Made Martyr [Open]

The tour of the settlement was overwhelming in a strange kind of way. Things were so different it was almost easier to simply stay calm and let everything hit him at once. The settlement was small, simple compared to the city Peter was used to, and so so alive. Things were growing, and growing, and growing in this place. Not to say he wasn’t also focused on the things Maea pointed out. On the contrary, he followed close at her heels, eyes moving from sight to sight as they were pointed out. Much of it was confusing, things he had never heard of, or that he didn’t know the use of (truthfully the only one Peter could say he knew for sure was the infirmary). Before too long, the area began to look familiar to him, their meansedin, circling .org helping Peter to put together a map of the settlement in his mind. It didn’t take long for him to feel confident navigating to everything big Maea had pointed out, he let his gaze wander again, his eye sliding over buildings and nature until it landed on the pale girl. He’d explanation moved on, praise the settlement and onto even more Peter couldn’t begin to fathom. Demons and magic and monsters? It sounded like a children’s story. And yet, it was all apparently here. They had come full circle by the time Maea wa finished, and Peter couldn’t be sure if it was by design or coincidence. He did have a dozen questions buzzing around in his head when she asked though, each of them fighting to jump to his tongue first, curiosity overpowering the nerves that came with having to ask a question. ”What is the... no, no, um, d-do the gods um... what do they do? There’s um... people who haves gods, where I... where I was, but they... I didn’t get it there either.” Peter The only thing I know is this: I am full of wounds and still standing on my feet.