Word of a very important summit had reached the serpent’s ears, one in which all four Sovereigns were supposedly to meet in the presence of a god. Up until this week, Toulouse hadn’t even known there was a god in these strange lands—at least one that was more than fable or fantasy. But when the earthquake had caused the ground to tremble and roll beneath his hooves, that had been everyone’s reaction:
It seemed silly to him, to attribute a natural disaster to a god. Of all the things gods were said to be capable of, why would they choose something so irrelevant? And why now?
He supposed he would have to educate himself a little more on this new world he found himself in. Everyone seemed so devoted, so quick to label both blessings and curses as the work of their deities.
But what made a god besides power?
Toulouse wasn’t familiar enough with these lands to know what they looked like before the earthquake. For all he knew, these trees were as old as they looked, and the clearing a carefully tended landmark. Doubt hung heavily on the Palomino’s mind as he slunk through the shadows, wandering around the perimeter of the wall the trees formed.
He came to a stop with a huff, his breath fogging up the early morning air. Whatever it was that was going on here, Toulouse was determined to be in the middle of it.
@avdotya here we go
rhiaan art
