Inkheart
JUST LIKE FIRE, BURNING OUT THE WAY
IF I CAN LIGHT THE WORLD UP FOR
JUST ONE DAY WATCH THIS MADNESS
COLORFUL CHARADE NO ONE CAN
BE JUST LIKE ME ANYWAY
IF I CAN LIGHT THE WORLD UP FOR
JUST ONE DAY WATCH THIS MADNESS
COLORFUL CHARADE NO ONE CAN
BE JUST LIKE ME ANYWAY
The child seemed so innocent, so full of wonder and.. optimism. They were qualities that Inkheart did not actually look down upon, and in fact, she valued them to a certain extent. Though naïveté was not something she desired in herself or those she had to rely on (though she did not much like relying on anyone), the qualities that the colt possessed were a blueprint for her to lay the foundation of faith and worship. As he tells her of the beautiful scenery around them, and then gestures to his home, she wonders how much she might persuade him, and how easy he might be to manipulate. Not that she wants him for any malevolent purpose, no. Her intentions are always benign and wholesome - unless he proved to be possessed by demonic forces, but that's another matter entirely. Although he obviously did not hail from Solterra, she held limited ill will. She did not hate inhabitants from other courts, but only frowned upon those that worshipped the other gods. Those of the faith may live anywhere, as long as they were of the correct faith.
She does not follow his gaze toward the sea, nor does she comment upon the appearance of the peak. Although it is lovely, she thinks that perhaps much more could be done to make it a worthy shrine. Worship may occur anywhere, and certainly to serve the sun god she would choose to honor him in the land where he would be most at home. But if this is where he believes he should worship - like his Mount Corenth - then they shall do so here. She purses her velvet lips in thought, wondering how best to continue. "And how would you begin your worship, young one? I would choose to worship Solis, the greatest of the gods and giver of life. Tell me, how would you call to the Greatest of the Greats!" The fervor and strength of her voice rise as she speaks, as her lungs fill with air and anticipation. She steps closer to the scaly colt and intends to run her lips over his crest and down his spine, to bring sensation to the ritual, however it may proceed. Inkheart will let him begin and lead the way, with her wisdom and faith to guide him.
