The task at hand, fixing up his jockstrap, seems to be more difficult than Öde could have known. Wessex pointedly ignores him when he so pleasantly asks, even giving him a cross look, as if he'd come over and shit on her grass mid bite. He might have expected such disgust from a scholar or perhaps a crafter, but a warrior? Aside from healers they ought to be the most comfortable when working with bodies, and if she has any sense of strategy she'd notice his gear wi vital for unhindered movement - why it's something to be appreciated on the battlefield, truly! So much for herd help he thinks, ignorant to how his request is so utterly beneath her or embarrassing to her. Thankfully not all his herdmates feel that way, and kindly his cousin, arguably one of the highest in status in the herd, obliges him simply and swiftly. Öde proffers him a smile, and a low "Thanks!"

Now fully contained, Öde can better listen to his god. The Spark offers a rare opportunity- witness to his more mortal nature. Öde has been foolish in the past when he's thought the gods to be invincible and untouchable (a presence he greatly envied). The recent reappearance of Kaos, once believe to be dead, seems to prove such thinking correct, but Öde only saw evidence of their immortality. Such a quality certainly sets the gods aside from the earth-bound masses (some anyway, he thinks of his own lack of demise), yet there is more to being godly than undying. The disassembling of the Hidden Falls herd stands as proof of their more mortal veins, as limited in them as the godly ones in himself are, but still present irregardless, like wisdom teeth or an appendix; both are useless and can pose more than just an inconvenience given time and mischief.

So Öde listens, intent, to this revealing of that mortal hum that beat a slow, steady pulse through a reedy vein in the timeless god. He finds it interesting, if not ultimately devaluing, and so his tail gives a passive twitch at his rear. It's much more impressive when he begins to roar, the might of his entire being sinking down into Öde's very bones, the marrow responding to such an ancient maker with reverence forged beyond his conception. There's an undertone of threat to the god's disapproval, and Öde finds himself giddy with anticipation at such ultimate punishment.

New crowns are placed, to which Öde has little opinion, not knowing much or either mare or the queen just lost. Decaying for a year has a way of making you lose touch with everyone, and even before then Öde practiced his hermit-status, nosing about the mirror and the history of the gods instead of the people. So he doesn't congratulate or condemn - a crown, he thinks, isn't half as important as the god standing before them. A crown can be knocked off, it can be tarnished and lost, so he always serves the gods before the kings. Though he does lament the loss of his uncle, the great lord of the north.

Kaos comes into the conversation, with surprisingly little knowledge to be shared. The Spark once more reveals the inevitable limitations of godliness - for all that he knows there are still things he doesn't. Öde flicks his tail passively, but cocks an ear as Erebos speaks up, attempting to give some purpose to uncover the unknown. "I'm happy to assist you in that endeavor, General," Öde murmurs, red eyes bright as he turns them on the gray prince. Öde may be a scholar by choice, but he's best made as a warrior, for numerous reasons.

because what happens in the haruspex cave
stays in the haruspex cave