Blacktail Deer Plateau you know everyone

so i see. murmurs the dreadfather; a rumbling noise that lingers in his throat for the barest of moments before it dissapates. for now, there are two altars, mine, though it goes unsaid, content to linger in the voidthoughts that consume him. a subtle shift of his weight. one for sithis and the unholy matron, the nightmother. for now, they are the main ones that ingram felt should be the forefront of worship. the other, lesser gods were of minor consequence, though that wasn't to say he wouldn't construct smaller altars for them in the future.

ingram does not tell her there is no wrong answer; that it is a task presented to play to her knowledge of flora and how she percieves each god in the form of a flower. telling her there was no wrong answer felt a bit like cheating.

all noble pursuits, murmurs the dreadfather; contemplative. i will speak with him. i believe i have just the gods. though 'gods' was a loose term; not entirely befitting of the commanders as he had stolen the lifeblood of one himself. his own mother.

edit. you get my 400th post! <3