The Sentinels time to sink way into the blue, dear

Dante listened, catching on a bit more to what he was implying.  The culture of the place, how each fit together.  It was perhaps a good question, though still Dante wasn't positive what Tachyon wanted from him.  "I'm afraid we aren't so interesting as that," he responded with a returned smile, shaking his head.  "I have my own gods, and Lasher his own beliefs as well.  I'm sure there are any number of different gods in Donnelaith.  Whether you have your own or even worship all of them is up to you."  Theirs was a place of tolerance.  Dante's home pack had been all the same, but religion hadn't been a massive focus even there.  It was odd to hear of a pack so consumed by belief in controlling forces rather than corporeal things.

"If the pack is a home, then Donnelaith is first and foremost a family.  That is what I take from it."  The good sort of family, though.  The kind that respected and protected one another.  Neither strength nor creed mattered if that were the case.  All that mattered was what you gave versus what you took.