Wild Berry Meadow pestilence-stricken multitudes

The first question almost draws a response from him — but a little bit of patience pays off, and Daighre seems to have more to say. Not much of a contribution, but the question opens the door for more, and that's good enough for Zephyr. More than he'd have dared to ask for, at least. Why does it have to be a god? He questions in return, dismissing for the moment his own experiences. He doesn't think Daighre would understand; he knows that he wouldn't understand, if he was simply hearing about it from someone else. I just think — it's worth thinking about why we do things occasionally, and where it's all going. Not that we can ever really know. If they could, things would be much different, he thinks. The world would be less cruel and cold. But I'd rather prepare myself for any possibility than get to the end of it all and figure out I've been taking things way too seriously. If there isn't any choice in it, there's no reason to care so much. Or at least, that's the way he sees it.