Lion Head Mesa my head is exploding like an atom bomb

They?

she must mean the gods, at least that is the idea that tuna can think of that makes the most sense in her mind. though as she gazes over the young nebet, tuna thinks quietly. she does not know all of the faces her, certainly many know hers only because she brings food and drink, and perhaps a drawl that can either sound like honey or as slow as molasses that can garner frustration. either way, tuna turns her gaze back to the young woman.

'sum'tahmes,' she murmurs quietly to the girl as she notices she seems off put from her meal, 'we haf'ta make things make sense tew us, 'n our ohw'n way,'

her batty ears press forward. 'an' answer r' ohw'n pray'ers bee'cus we're list'nin to our'selves.' 

tuna was a heretic, but not the kind that shrieked about. but the kind who knew that her beliefs differ, and she was okay with this. she followed the rituals, but only held her beliefs to be true, that is, if she had any. for now, religion and belief is something that is sinister and yet delicate, and she has not made sense of any of what she has seen. life, death, fertility, love--

she keeps those thoughts quiet upon her pink tongue.