Blackfeather Woods bloom, gloom & doom

Not yet did she know she had been given away as some kind of gift to the man before her - that she would perhaps one day carry his children instead of being given a choice to pick a suitable partner herself. If she had known, she would've avoided Damien at all costs, even if he were the king of the woods. She did not like being controlled and would not likely play along if elsewhere she could find a place she could rule instead. But, for now, she found enjoyment in being around Ipik. He was more... verbal than her brothers, nicer than her mother and not nearly as serious as her father. Yes, with time, she believed they would get along just fine - if he were to not pick her up again, that was.

One eyebrow raised, and with it did her freckles. You are a boy. You are grown. Your eyes... they lack color. She pointed out only a few things. We are nothing alike. She shrugged. What made him think they were alike? Was it a compliment or an insult? She did not know how to take it.

Shifting into a more comfortable position, she perked her ears and paid all the attention a child could pay to a story. Well, she supposed these were not just stories. They were what they believed - what she was to believe to be apart of these woods and their deep culture. She understood, she was willing to learn - and that could be counted as an achievement for the male. She had to come closer to hear Ipik better, for his tone became softer with each higher being he counted, and Astrid wanted to make sure she did not miss a thing. The names were all stored in her brain, and she repeated them silently a few times. Luckily she had a great mind to remember details. 

You named me after a beautiful Mistress? She asked after a silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. And I assume all these true divinities have their own stories, right? Does Nocturnal have one? She asked a little later, not wanting to drop the topic for she was genuinely interested.