Yorse stirs a bit at his name being called, but he only speaks to Freya.
Am I your son?
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Magpie picks the shiny up into the air. The godling is warm, a comfortable clutch on a cold morning. Flying, exultant, the joy of Yorse is a loud thing, like the bonng of a bell too close by, a sound that you feel in your teeth and hear in your stomach. The bird caws, seemingly immune to the vibrations. After a few wheeling circles, Magpie brings Yorse back to Freya. The godling whispers only to the paladin now, Freya: Where did Sky go? Why is She gone?
Take me in the air! Everyone can hear Yorse's reply, though Freya hears it most clearly.
Freya, unlike elen children, Yorse seems to go completely comatose for several candles at a time. It glows brighter sometimes as you speak of philosophies and the teachings of your people. You notice that its favorite tales are those of battle and victory.
Freya: Tired. The light begins to dim. Not alarmingly so, but between the softer light and the slower pulses, you believe Yorse is sleeping (or whatever godlings do)
For a moment, everyone hears the innocent, curious voice of Yorse in the back of their head: What is food?
Freya: The small golden orb of light, tucked in your jacket, has been quiescent since you agreed--in whatever strange way it meant--to be its mother. When asked its name, it replies 'your son' several times. Eventually, together you settle on "Yorse" as a name. The yellow presence cools slightly, and its quiet babbling ceases; you believe it is asleep. |