Iktome Plains zephyrus

Not a sound shared between the two of them, only a look. What Dianikos would presume to be a welcome, as their gazes locked briefly.

Then the spirit was away!

It danced like it was made of the very wind that blew her so off course to begin with; it led down through the field and away, and Dianikos trusted this to be the messenger she had been waiting for.

She followed, of course. Her energy devoted wholly to keeping pace, winding through the blackened woodland. Her hope was what fueled her; somewhere along this path was the god that was meant to receive her.