The Diviner was watching the insect disappear when two walked past that she had not noticed coming closer in her weariness. What about ‘what’…? She turned her head and saw the little white foal she had dramatically thrown herself before, back in the Bloodfalls. Ah, then her eyes slipped up to Shadow. “Sure,” Maren said to the shadow she had met, now almost a year ago, last seen at the Falls’ festival. “You too.” But she didn’t move to stand up, was quite comfortable as she was.
"Please don't let my daughter bother you."
She pfeh'ed softly through her nose, curling her lips up as prove of her as her amusement. Maren’s eyes turned to those of Shadow’s child. "How could I blame this filly’s exceptional hearing for disturbing me?" she questioned in response to Shadow's attempt of teaching her child to leave old, tired mare’s alone.
And yet, she didn't know what more to say to Shadow, as some little part of Maren couldn't help but feel like she had done wrong as a mother to let her child loose in the gore and the blood, endangering herself and others. But she knew it wasn’t her place and she knew she shouldn’t care, for perhaps they had their reasons themselves. So she left it as it was: Silent and within the walls of her own judgmental mind.
“Well then…,” she sighed, looking thoughtful into those turquoise eyes of the filly. Which was done with ease, since they were on almost the same height with their heads the way they were.
“What do you think, daughter of Shadow," because even though the kid was so white as a dry cloud, she smelled the same as her mother-friend. "What do you think is the concept of a God? How do you think are we meant to understand and use that concept in our life?" Her outlandish tunes flew over her dry tongue in her feminine ways.
What do you think? She had asked the world.
About what? The filly had questioned in return.
And, even though the priestess’ question had been meant for the nothing else than the four wind, she could not help voice them to the little one. After all, she had found curiosity in them and why would she deny that to her? If she fought for the Gods — if she fought against them, should she not know these questions herself, should she not question them to herself?
"Shouldn't we all be Gods?” Maren asked again in a soft tone from her exhausted, but smiling lips.
“What’s your name, child?”
What do you think?
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