Larksong Grotto where gods want

As for Aspa, although the gods were, in her words, loquacious, they had neglected to warn her of an additional presence. In truth, Aspa had never known solitude; there were always voices, murmurs, whispers that reached her ears.

Og ikke med hænderne tomme, she had smiled, her lips curled and her gaze mischievous. Er du virkelig så besluttet på ikke at vrede guderne, bjørnemand? Hvad kunne de dog have gjort imod dig i dine tidligere liv? She had laughed softly.

Der er en kløft mod den sten, det er der, jeg vil slå mig ned. More of an opening, as if the gods themselves had carved it. Jeg har brug for, at du hjælper mig med at fælde disse træer. Old stumps clinging to life by some unknown miracle, waiting only for a gust of wind or the muscled shoulder of a great warrior to topple. Aspa was neither, but Skorpa...

Meanwhile, she had already busied herself adorning the entrance with tasteless decorations—lagomorph heads, plants whose scent promised ill fortune for mortals, and other soothsayer's trinkets.

Det er godt, at du kom for at hjælpe mig... she declared.