Don't tell me that

She took in his warning with a dismissive smirk. How cute. Valkyrie knew the strength of her own gods and it was for that reason when the man launched into what sounded like the beginnings of a lecture her mouth turned downward in a critical and vaguely pitying expression. It had been her experience that those who followed a god that was so insecure s/he needed their followers to convert the masses were usually no better themselves. No, her gods weren't like that. They needed no sleazy salesmen to race ahead of them and convince the world of their power. They convinced unbelievers not purposefully, but as a by-product of their greatness. When they acted their stories spread like wildfire and wolves were led to believe not by sweet words and promises of improvement, but by the truth their own eyes were witness to.

Valkyrie snorted a soft derisive laugh and waved a low, dismissive gesture with her paw which caused the skull hanging down her chest to bounce and rattle. "I have not and I have no interest. Any god who needs a man to tell me about him is no god worth learning about." It was as simple as that. She would learn about this god of his the day he did something worth her notice - and not a moment sooner.

She leveled a saucy, challenging look at him. "None but the weak would take you up on that request. I am strong not because of the help of a god desperate for my attention, but because I willed myself this way." Her gods rewarded those who took care of themselves and their family. Feats were what made a wolf great and that mortal strength, that veneration of respect and honor, that was what endeared mortals to the truly fearsome gods.