Tangled Puppet
Len blinked.
Among the Yaeli, saying that one didn’t believe in the gods was similar to insisting the sun didn’t exist—it just, wasn’t a thing stated. But, unlike many of her countrymen, Lenila’s belief in their higher powers was less akin to worship and more a suspicious irritation interwoven with careful and wary subservience. She wasn’t offended Jalase didn’t believe—that was his own business and not her spot to care—but it didn’t change her perspective either.
“Don’t much wanna catch their notice myself,” she admitted. “Don’t seem like a right kind bunch, and got a wicked strange sense o’ good fun and humor, so I’m stuck hopin’ they don’t mind me not talkin’ to em much, but…wouldn’t be me to wanna step on their bad toe, either.”
She glanced sidelong, up to the notably taller figure at her side, and bumped her hip light against his.
“But so what do ya believe in, then? Must be somethin’ that keeps you carryin’ yourself around all day. Doing good for people.”