the VOICE
Bowing her head in acceptance, the Voice watched quietly by as Bastien wrapped the canvas and hid it away again. As he spoke, she raised an eyebrow, her flickering presence moving around him as if that might let her get a better understanding. “We cannot all be like the Wraith,” she said, her tone suggesting that he may have been comparing himself a jot.
“Your talents are no less impressive, Bastien, whether they lie in combat or in artistry. You are more a priest, an oracle, a prophet...” She smiled beatifically. ”Does that suit you better?”
“Your talents are no less impressive, Bastien, whether they lie in combat or in artistry. You are more a priest, an oracle, a prophet...” She smiled beatifically. ”Does that suit you better?”
