She hummed, a hint of laughter edging the tone of it. "Well. My father is the god of death. The closest thing I've to a brother is a spirit collecting god. My mother's family were undertakers. I speak more regularly with ghosts than living people and am most at peace when surrounded by gravestones. So I suppose I do not have a very good perception of gloomy." she said with a bit of a shrug. Maybe this was why Mort worried about her making friends. She wasn't just the child of a god, but enveloped in a world most thought was "gloomy" or "heavy", as Maea put it.
Yet here was a human with a natural calling to the heavier aspects of life, and it was hard for Delphia to look at her without overzealous joy. "If you do not mind having a friend who sees and speaks to dead people then I would like it very much." she said with a hint of a smile in her eyes. But her statement made her head tilt at her curiously. "How so?"
Delphia
when you can't look on the bright side
i will sit with you in the dark
