Phoenix Maplewood Why did God create atheists?

@Boris, you are referenced. Esma, Boris is traveling with John to the coast. He and Boris will be heading west once they reach the coast, unless otherwise specified by Boris’s player.

John had been preparing to leave his first camp he’d briefly set up bordering the maple wood. He been gathering his things, and letting Boris know that they would soon head out, when he’d caught a whiff on the breeze. He reassured Boris that he would go check it out, and that he should stay put and watch the fur bag John carried. 

He trotted briskly toward the sweet scent of maple sap and wolf. The wolf’s scent was bordeiring familiar to him, perhaps someone he’d met before. He knew he was close when the scent was strong and he’d caught a wolf’s figure in his line of sight. Upon moving closer, he recognized the stranger to be Esma, the young lady he’d met just outside Riven wood, the girl who he’d taught his religion to. He approached in a comfortable stance, his tail brushing at his hocks, ears perked in interest. “What a surprise.” He began, “Esma, wasn’t it? What are you doing all the way out here?”

Oh, and when he’d noticed she was about to taste the sap, he kindly warned her with a lighthearted chuckle, “I’d be careful what you taste unless you know more about what it is you want to taste.”