some simply become it
It's not Caligo, but Tenebrae. I'm not sure if I should feel relieved.
I feel indifferent about the monk. He seems… okay, although I will never understand his customs. My belief of Caligo is… complicated, but I would never devote my entire life (my entire being, even) to her. I don't think any deity is worth that, especially not one that isn't a clear, tangible being. Even if I think I've seen her before, those could easily be figments of my imagination.
The man comes up to Caligo's statue and places a flower by her stone hooves almost as an offering. There is a flash of red when the moonlight hits him just right, but then he's covered mostly in shadow again. I blink, unsure if I saw correctly, but he appears wounded. His tone and posture don't make it obvious.
I look at him with what will likely be a familiar cold gaze. He says he's glad I'm here, but I'm not sure what that means. I just poured my heart and soul out, perhaps more than I have to anyone, and lucky for me that he had been lurking in the shadows.
"How much did you hear exactly?" I press him, trying to hide my fear that he may have heard everything. "And don't lie to me."
I almost want to tell him to beat it and leave me alone. It's what I do to everyone ever, but I don't. I honestly don't know why. Maybe this place has some kind of magical hold on me and my tolerance.
"I wasn't praying," I correct him, rolling my eyes. Praying would be something he'd do with his knees to the ground and maybe his face to Caligo's statue. For one, no one knows who's exactly touched that so that's pretty gross. But last I checked just talking didn't count as praying. Or did he hear up to the favor I asked? Great.
"I don't really care what you do, I guess," I say, torn between my usual grumbling and just shrugging this off. Although, part of me still feels concerns that those were wounds I saw. I don't ask about them (yet). Maybe the monks are more violent than I thought.
@Tenebrae <3
