He glided silently to the floor, unhindered by low hanging branches or the fear of flying into a bramble. He landed, stumbling slightly as the softness of the sooty floor caught him off guard, kicking up plumes of ash with his wings. For a moment he turned his gaze upwards and his wings spread away from his body, as if he was stretching in the light of the sun. But no, this was different. He was listening to the word of his gods, listening to the heartbeat of the soil, feeling the caress of the wind through the blades of his feathers. "They will rot." He croaked. "Gylton will see to it that they will be swallowed by his rabble and all their bones will feed the children of Daphion!" He cried calling to anyone that would listen. A small entourage began to form around him as he spoke. Fawns, hares, birds; the scarce population passing through the charred enclave, as he shouted warnings of doom and death to the heavens. Speech

To woods she would travel, away, her heart leading her to most peculiar places here in this new land. It was in her nature, her way, to travel where her paws would go, as her heart navigated the land and steered her away from the most perilous of predicaments. Today would be quite the interesting find, or so she would believe, as the wolfess walked on and she heard that voice. It cried to the heavens, shouting words of warning of gods she did not know. Pamela would slow her walk upon the soot covered ground, her bi-colored eyes searching for the form and owner of the voice this time. That same voice she always heard, despite who it came from. What she would find was a most odd sight, and perhaps, at her arrival, some of the animals gathered would disperse quickly. That or the word of doom might have had them frightened. No, it seemed more likely yet to be the first. She was a predator after all... and she would watch the shaded figures of different creatures go, blind to their individuality. There was one in particular she kept her gaze upon. It took the shape of a bird, the owner of the voice, the one speaking wisdom of the gods. Pamela would quietly seat herself, gaze in his direction, her own disorder making her blind to the fact that he was, in fact, truly blind, with the milky orbs to match. "Who is it, dear prophet, that the gods you name seek to punish? Who of the created has evoked upon them the wrath of their creators, and challenge their will?" She had, once upon a time, came across another prophet. They were intelligent and curious beings. They could hear the voices of the gods, gods she knew little of and wished to learn more. So she would listen, and she would question, so that she would be able to learn. Perhaps she might be thought odd, a wolf among those who would be prey, yet she was here to listen to the prophet herself, and heed the words given. Speech,

He stopped his ramblings, looking in the general direction of the beast who dared to interrupt his preaching. A look of fury crossed his features and his wings folded at his sides "What dares to inquire? What is it that speaks to me?" He asked bitterly. He had been completely derailed, and any animals brave enough to stay scattered, having lost interest. "Is it bear? Fox? Or Wolf maybe?" a faint chuckle glided from his beak at the word wolf. Gylton whispered to him; "One of the doomed. Soul of a heretic" His chest puffed up slightly, the feathers along his neck standing on end. He was in no mood for he my heresy, and should she attempt to speak to him of blasphemy he would surely leave. "Be patient, my harbinger." breathed Daphion. "Guide this soul and offer her deliverance." His eyes closed at the lyrical voice of his goddess. "Yes. I will obey." his own thought muttered Gylton Daphion Speech

It was perhaps good she could not see the fury on the preacher she interrupted. A blessing, perhaps, but the voice would speak, and the words were bitter. No doubt interruption was not favored, yet Pamela did not do it out of spite or to speak of blasphemy, as such a prophet might expect. The slate wolfess would dip her head, gaze closing as she dipped her head in respectful manner. How ironic it was neither could truly see the other, save for their words and scent. But Pamela was untroubled by this. ?I am a wolf, prophet. A simple wolfess; no more and no less.? She kept her tones respectful. She would lift her head, mis-matched orbs opening. ?I apologize for interrupting you, and in such in a manner... But the word men and women of the devout path spread is something that greatly fascinate me. For I am who lacks knowledge, whereas prophets hear words directly from the gods, and how I am to learn if I do not question and seek answer? I ask forgiveness for the interruption, prophet, and request answer for the knowledge you hold, if you deem me worthy.? Yes Pamela was an odd young woman. She would tilt her head slightly to the side, like an inquisitive child, as she waited for the man to respond to her. She had dealt with those who were patient and forgiving to give her the chance to understand, and those who ran her off for her action. What this man would do had yet to be seen, yet Pamela was hopeful. The chance of knowledge should not be passed up if it could, with any luck, be gained. Speech,

He calmed considerably at her explanation, the feathers around his neck fluffing out in a gesture of sudden self-consciousness, his mind stuck on her fascination with his occupation. He cleared his throat to regain his composure and spoke again: "Well. Thank you ma'am. I suppose I should explain, but sadly I have no explanation to give. The Gods simply speak through me, I am not one to interpret their judgement or prophesy." He paused, attempting to think of something he could say to appease her, after all she had been so polite to him, despite interrupting his preaching. " I will tell you this; your kind is in a bad place. Gylton offers safe-haven for no species, and once he has passed his righteous judgement upon a species, none of them shall prosper." Speech Gylton Daphion

The young woman would give a small nod. Though his words gave no answer, they gave her something far better. "Such an honest answer you give me, Prophet. That in itself is better than explanation of prophecy. There have been others I've met that I would be one to wonder, but that..." She would dip her head. "Is the kind of answer a true prophet would give." So odd was their meeting, yet, it brought Pamela a sort of fascination speaking with this avian. His gods spoke through him, gave their word. He too would speak again, and her smile would slowly fade. A slow, solemn, understanding nod was given. "Such truth, Prophet. Such truth. Perhaps I bear but one of these signs of downfall by your god Gylton. I know not more of you, prophet, than simply that you are an avian, a being of the air. I see, yet my eyes are blind. I hear, yet I am also deaf. By the will of the gods it would seem.... I can not tell difference between individuals. Not even my family or myself... but these main senses. A form of punishment? Perhaps. But only the gods can truly say if that claim is true." Pamela would dip her head. "My apologies again, Prophet, for now I ramble. If I may bear the honor of hearing your name, or even if not, I wish to at the very least give you mine; Pamela Arrow." She would lift her head again, gaze settling on the figure. Walk "Talk" Think

He bowed, wings spread out over the ground. "I am Noah Crawford. You honor this humble emissary with your name." He said, suddenly aware that the gesture was seen by no one, and intended for no one. He rose and spoke again: "For what it's worth; Daphion, the wiser spouse of Gylton, bleeds for your kind." He offered little solace, but it was all he could offer her, all he could reassure her of. His mind snapped back to something she had said earlier,her blindness being a curse, a sign of doom. But he knew first hand it was no such thing. "You have not been cursed, you bear no mark of such a thing upon your soul. Gylton does not damn those ignorant of him. He explained. If anything blindness was a blessing. "You may not see, but that is your shield from deceit." Speech Gylton Daphion

Pamela would gently smile hearing the name. ?Noah is a handsome name. It has been one of my favorites, to be honest with you.? It felt nice to speak to someone of such things without bickering and fighting involved. There was understanding. There was open mindedness. The she-wolf would perk her ears as Noah spoke of Daphion. Her expression softened, and she would speak gentle words of the heart; ?A noble and kind goddess. She must truly be loved in return. Though I know her not myself, I thank her for it, from the bottom of my heart.? With Pamela?s mind there was a great many gods and goddesses. All worked with and against each other at the same time. It was a peculiar thing. Again the female would listen. She wore a frown, but a small nod was given. ?That is... A way I have not thought of it before. Though harder to tell others by who they are... I suppose it has its advantages as well, as you. A shield from deceit, and to keep myself from being biased by things such as looks, gender or age. Hmm...? Pamela would close her eyes, thinking quietly to herself. ?You have a good view of things, Noah. You?ve truly been blessed with the power of the mind.? In Pamela?s state of mind there existed three powers -- the power of the body, or strength, the power of the mind, rather, wisdom, and the power of the spirit, willpower and courage. Each could be important, and drawing together one of each helped keep balance in a group. The she would would speak again. ?Perhaps, should the fates and gods be willing, we?ll be able to meet again after today, Noah. It would be a meeting I?d look forward to.? She would look around a moment, seeing that they were truly alone now. Her interruption... But... It had lead to what she wanted to hope was the beginning of a friendship. Speech,