Firefly Glen "Through the Refiner’s Fire" (Malachi 3:3)

periane watched her, the quiet reverence of the moment settling deep in her chest. priestess. the title was given freely, without doubt.
a slow smile, small but warm, found her lips. recognition, yet hesitation.
perhaps, she murmured, the word neither denial nor acceptance. her gaze drifted skyward again, searching the vast expanse of stars as though they might part to reveal the answers she longed for.
the signs are unclear.
her voice carried the weight of uncertainty, of longing. i seek, yet i do not know if i see. i listen, yet i do not know if i hear.
she exhaled softly, the cold catching her breath like mist.
does the Lord test me, or have i strayed too far?

THANK YOU;;