Honeyed Pasture and watched an aspen that confirmed it

ingram only barely resists preening beneath morgana's affirmation that trikova would appreciate his work. though it was surely visible to anyone with eyes how utterly devoted he was to her. enough that she'd returned and he'd turned his back upon ursus without second thought, how he'd missed her with a physical ache in his chest when she'd been gone.

regardless, her approval was the goal. even if he was a bit of a fumbling foal when it came to religious things, especially the religion the pair appeared to practice. but! he would learn. he was willing to learn, even if he could not entirely shake all of his mother's ingrained beliefs ( to his dismay ).

his brow furrows as she speaks of illness and he peers down at the antler for a few moments, before his seagreen gaze lifts to morgana once more. no, he says, remembering the felled goat he'd feasted upon and then fallen quite ill from afterwords ...but that had been some time ago and he hadn't come across it since ( and it hadn't smelled ill ). it looks old. he observes, even if he had no way to logically know that and drew that observation solely from being moss covered.

ingram shrugs his broad shoulders and tries to think of something to speak to her about. conversations weren't exactly his strong suit — he favored grunts, growls, rumbles and non-verbal communication — but he wants to know her better, for she is still an unknown player, to him. an enigma ...and not in the way he finds endearing of trikova ( but he's probably extremely biased ).

i want to learn more, he announces, a bit caveman-esque, as if he'd forgotten words to elaborate. about the unnamed god and ...rituals and things. it wasn't a great attempt but it was honest and surely that had to count for something? and i do not want to take up all of the listener's time. for her time was precious and surely could not be stolen all by him ( despite how much he wished to ). would you ...teach me? he asks.