Hoshor Plains i was a goddess — now i ache.

periane’s gaze softened, though her expression remained composed—serene, like still water. her eyes swept over the boy as he gestured to himself, lips forming silent words. she noticed the slight tremble in his limbs, the tentative air about him, and felt a gentle pang of familiarity. she had seen this before—the uncertain steps of one seeking where they might belong.
she did not answer his question aloud, not yet. instead, she let hemera’s words linger between them, the weight of them settling like snow upon their small gathering. a priestess requires a guardian.
periane inclined her head slightly toward her sister, acknowledging the sentiment, though her attention returned to the boy.
do you wish to be one? her voice was low, melodic—a careful balance of invitation. a guardian. or is it something else that brought you here?
she held his gaze, patient, but searching. she would not press him, but she would listen. always, she would listen.