Emberwood The die is cast.

Dovev had no semblance of religion. The north did have one, a mixture of spiritual, shamanistic, and heavily ritualized proceedings. He couldn't say if they had specific deities for things. For him, everything was in black or white. Her turning around to respond was a final splash of paint on the situation. His smile had lapsed from it's genuine smirk to one of plaster.

With flickering pale eyes, the Creek male quickly scanned her frame. I think you want to see how much I know... but that comes at a price.
He seemed to speak ponderously, in a thoughtful and distant manner, but a subtle shift occurred just below his pelt. It would be a little more of a challenge, know that she was facing him, and there was no lack of external weakness Dovev could pick up on.