Totoka River no direction but a faith in her decision

nothing. perhaps once, the listener had been the same; tethered to nothing and no one in mortal eyes, adrift in the world of flesh-and-blood suffering and fleeting labored pleasures. memories of such a time were lost to her now, for the essence of the void-priest had been far beyond their body. still, something stirred in the listener to hear this plight put so plainly. a wolf without kin was a solitary blade of grass, a single leaf fallen from a tree; incomplete. the listener lifted their head and spoke.

come. travel with druids. hear words of spirits and fate. walk with us, head tilted, intrigued. or leave. you choose. for choice was the fundamental blessing of mortality, was it not?

just as inevitability was the fundamental curse of godhood.