I sold my soul for this ~Modicum Mortem~

[Hestia]

"I am the least of the gods. Why would you trust me with this?"
"You're the last and most important of them all" I replied.

Feelings, it’s such an interesting term. Feelings, emotions, belief; at their true baseness striped of all the expectations and complex assumptions philosophers put on ‘feelings’. They are simply the awareness of our cells reacting from chemical reactions to stimuli. Ah hell, trying to wrap a mind around that can be difficult. So maybe an example is better for the simplicity; a needle pricks the finger, the nerves in the finger experience negative stimuli, the person is aware of this stimulus, thus the awareness of the person reacts to the reaction of the stimuli. Now the awareness remembers this sensation in the future it will experience fear leading them to avoid pricking themselves with needles in the future. Unless of course they’ve got some super fucked up feelings and end up liking those sensations. Still there is a feeling regardless of if it is positive or negative. It’s just impossible to be foreign to the concept of such things. If it was a foreign concept, there would be no way one could make it to adulthood. Even if they managed that, they would be incapable of social interaction all together. They would be… in truth nothing more than dumb animals. Aware of nothing that an intelligent creature must experience to be called such.

But enough on the mind-boggling philosophy, that was not the reason that Hestia came to Sylva. An alliance once held with this kingdom, and she would not be the one to break it. But then again, she didn’t need to did she? Clown nose here had already done that for her. Even if she’s not been made aware of this just yet. Having lost enough that she has cared about in her life, well it gives her an edge that others do not have. At least mortals, and the young immortals who’ve yet to step from their foalish ages wouldn’t understand. Those her age and older, they would understand, and much like her often choose the reclusive lifestyle watching the buzzing of the mortals humdrum lives pass them by in a blink of an eye. Occasionally stepping forward, either to meddle and cause chaos, or set them on a better path. This time Hestia is choosing the later. Maybe next time it would be the side of chaos that she takes. Only time would tell.

His voice sounds flat to her ears, and the one flicks towards him with her green gaze steadily roaming over the trees that sprawl over the land before them. She doesn’t look to him, not answering him just yet. Her mind reveling in the beauty of Beqanna. She never ceases to amaze. Her words are quiet, distant even. Not truly speaking to him. Her tail flicks listlessly in the wind, while her mane and forelock are played with in the breeze. He seems impatient, his question comes so abruptly. Hmm, a low hum from her throat replies. I could ask you the same Modi. You don’t mind if I call you Modi do you?… her lips slide over the words easily enough, finally she turns her gaze to match his, cold in their poison. Of course you don’t. She finishes before he can interrupt. She begins to walk, a twitch ghosting her lips for a moment before turning her attention to the path before her. Show me why don’t you Modi? Show me… hmm, why I was… brought. Here as you say. Her flaming wings rustle against her swelling belly, insolating her and the child that grows in her from the bitter winter that rages around them.

HESTIA

@[Modicum Mortem]