“A church? I would happily assist you, Maren.” It wouldn’t be too strange for him to help erect a place of worship for another god - he had known that the Throat worshiped someone other than his mother when he had sought to join the herd and that fact had been part of the reason why he had come here, after all. “Come find me the next time you’re working on it, okay?” Without crafting magic there was only so much he could do but he could help find her the materials and bring them to the site, whatever she needed from him.

Her chuckle was a welcomed noise, even though it was followed soon by a gentle chiding for him to not get too carried away. Gossip heard was not gossip spoken by Maren, it appeared, and his embarrassment faded with her words. “And I appreciate that.” He found it easy to believe that Maren was speaking the truth - she wasn’t going around the Throat or Helovia and updating them on the tidbits of Mesec’s life she seemed to hear. He didn’t expect very many would be interested in hearing them, anyway, though the subject of his parentage still drew questions. It wasn’t so long ago that Megaera had found out and discussed his future in the herd because of it.

Mesec truly hadn’t been expecting anything to come out of the fire. He had assumed that if the God of the Sun was going to communicate with his diviner, he might have just spoke through the flames rather than appearing himself. Or perhaps send a sign or message in his place. So when the fire began to move after he had last spoken, Mesec jumped a little bit - the feathers on his wings flaring up for a second before settling back down again as he watched in amazement. No matter how many times he saw the gods, their methods of appearing were never boring.

Mesec felt embarrassed for the second time in only a handful of minutes, this time over his own poor choice of words. But as he was ducking his head respectfully in greeting he caught the God’s good-natured wink and relaxed. He didn’t particularly want to make a fool of himself in front of the patron God of this herd. And then Maren’s soft voice was disagreeing, speaking with poetry of how the fire could talk. She wasn’t defending him (there really wasn’t any need) but Mesec smiled at her all the same, if only for the lovely things she had spoken. He wondered if the fires would sing such songs to him, if he listened.

He was listening now, though, content to stay quiet - only muttering a sincere “And you, sir.” when the God spoke of how it was good to see them both. Beyond that, he did not want to interrupt Maren as she answered the questions posed by the God. He was worried that speaking too much would make his presence unwanted but mostly, he was just curious about the exchange between diviner and god - wondering how often the Sun came to visit when she called. Her comment of how the Throat had lost none was met with mixed emotions on his part. Mesec was glad, of course, that none of their herd had been killed but there were still losses and they were too near to him to find much joy in the memories.

Silver eyes, warm with a smile, moved between the two he stood with - Maren asking the question he had as well, the question always swimming in his mind about one thing or another. What does it mean.