"Is a Vagabond not a lost soul in some way, Willoughby Lovelace?"
Oh, how the words resonated with her when addressed. Willoughby smiled softly, a look of forlorn in her eyes. “Yes, Goddess” she agreed quietly as the citizens of Denocte went ahead with choosing their next leader “that is why... I would like to lead these people. To give my life a purpose and to hopefully make a purpose in their own.” But she already knew it may not be that way.
She may walk away from here like any other place. She may not be the people's choice, an outsider like she was to them. New to Novus, new to Denocte. Only a passing bard playing in the streets, a fleeting creature to these folks. A man she did not know spoke up, allying himself with another called Ira. Willoughby felt her head slip just slightly but she focused on Caligo entirely. “I am humbled to even try, to walk among your people.” she speaks in her same gentle manner.
But that is all she says, and if she is addressed she would speak to the people. But for now? She steps slightly back, allowing the others that the goddess called on to make their statements.
“speech”
