Ravensblood Forest daddy's getting hot [ part i ]

they do not seek pity; it does not sit well within their chest: bubbling like a poisonous witch's brew despite that they know she does not mean it to be such. the urge to spurn it is strong and thinly, they resist. they accept it ( perhaps begrudgingly ) with a grunt and a minuscule inclination of their head.

they do not like lingering in the realm of neglect and loneliness, having never truly been alone. the voidwraiths speak to them: in their waking and their slumber.

at her last words a snort does leave the dreadfather's lips. i was met with ...what i sensed to be unease, uncertainty when i brought up my ...priesthood. 'priest' was putting it in a manner that made it seem sacrosanct: and it was, to him. though perhaps it was the name the dreadfather was what put vagabond off. for now, i will keep my faith and my rituals to myself.

though they are aware that many would find the ritualistic way in which the dreadfather lived their life to be unsettling. they had anticipated this.