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"Why white?"
In an unimpressive fart of sparks, the God of the Spark appeared. His cold dark eyes were focused on Ranjiri with a quizzical glimmer. He looked at the flower, then with a decided slowness, his gaze dragged itself back up to stare directly into her own.
"Is it because I'm old?" He asked, seriousness straightening his hardened features. In truth, the God was old. Being the God of fucking time it was probably impossible to determine his real age. Nevertheless, out of them all, he looked older, probably due to his beard and graying features. Still, it sounded like there was some amount of hurt pride in his voice.
And then..
"hah. Just kidding." A comical smirk broke his features as his tail casually slapping against his denim-coloured thighs.
"So ... what's this? A field trip?"
Slowly his gaze shifted to Cathun, appraising him slowly, then back to Ranjiri who apparently was the ring-leader. Or, at least the one with the forethought to bring gifts, even if they were basically mostly-dead weeds. It was the thought that counted (or so the mortals said). Unlike his brothers and sister, the God rarely peered into the minds of those around him. He could, if he wanted, pluck from their thoughts their motives and intentions, but why? It was so much more entertaining to hear them try to formulate their own hectic minds into sentences.
His stout body leaned to the side carelessly and lazily, as he cocked out a hip.
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[P] shut up and walk, Cathun!
