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The God chuckled - a sound both hearty and powerful. Even the water seemed to dance with amusement, as a paternal gaze was cast upon the little stallion. Was he really such a sight to behold? He was tall, sure. But so were the likes of Mauja and Archibald. Was it his power? Possibly. But if this little fellow retained even a fraction of what Midas must have surely told him, then he would know that the God would not strike down his own Storyteller, without significant provocation. So what was there to be feared? Why did the creature tremble so? Did he do this at the base of mountains? At the summit of the Heavenly Fields? Still amused by this unnecessary reverence, the God lowered his horned brow to listen to what Wilibald had to say.
As the stallion spoke, the God leaned backwards on his haunches thoughtfully, powerful gaze narrowing in contemplation. Was this Midas' doing? Why hadn't the paint come to speak for himself, if he wondered about an alliance? The Basin and the Edge...then it had to Midas' doing, for the Throat was not listed amongst the candidates. Likely because Midas already knew they would ally themselves readily. Whatever the reason this stallion was here, the God was pleased. He had had so many StoryTellers shirk their duties, that he was glad to see one who confronted them - even if he did tremble.
Breathing out gently, a calming breeze wafted towards Wilibald. Leaves and small particles of water danced in the air, before settling on the brow stallion like a gentle mist. The magic which moved the foliage was meant to calm the stallion, and instill in him strength and vigor. It would pass after a time, but the God hoped it would replace his nervousness at coming to see him, with a sense of strength and pride.
"Although the Edge used to be a secluded and secretive group, my sister's influence does not seem to have permeated to the heart of their new leaders. I foresee little difficulty with allying with the Edge. The Basin however...They are an interesting group. They hold steadfast to their values, and have a strength that could have toppled this land, or the Throat, had they not greedily tried attacking both at once." Pausing, the God thought of the Invasion of a few seasons past, sighing wearily. "Likely, they might consider becoming allies...but do not expect them to come to your aid out of respect of mere words of good will. You will need to offer them something in return - as the Grey who occupied these lands so long ago, did. Perhaps your crafters could come to an agreement...or your warriors. Whatever you decide, know that the Basin will always do what is in their best interest. Never forget that."
Congratulations! The God has refreshed Wilibald! For the next 7 days, Wilibald will have a renewed sense of strength and his energy will fade far, far slower.
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