Lion Head Mesa i worship ancient hungers

despite stating that she believes the world is ruled by chaos in lieu of gods she takes an apparent interest in his off-handed comment earlier about seeing gods. his glacial gaze is clinical as he regards her, cold for a moment as he anticipates ridicule. he finds none. her interest seems genuine and it is enough to placate the rising defensiveness he feels barricading within his chest. he wonders how much he should tell her. sometimes, their rules of 'secrecy' is a bit confusing. they want to be known but they want to keep things secret. the dark brotherhood is covert, this he knows. but are the gods? he doesn't think so.

i saw the night mother and the dread father. he tells her, opting to keep their true names out of the conversation. wintersbane doubts she will know of whom he speaks anyway. if she is perturbed that he is from blackfeather — his coat is saturated with their scent. he is apart of them just as much as they are apart of him — she does well to hide it. it was only after i realized the mushrooms i'd eaten had psychedelic properties. yet, still it counts ...because he can remember them. and the ghosts of blackfeather whose names are lost upon him.

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