Romans 8:18-19

Kenway had been asking questions, questions about his place in the world, about the Fallen God and what it had to do with him. Her mind had drifted back to the lessons her mother had given, it felt like grasping at tendrils of smoke. She had been so young... but with the help of Oddie and the cattle dogs, they had dragged some pelts out to the stones and soaked up the weaker summer sun, Modesty rolling balls of clay between her paws, looking to the flat disk that bore her sigil. Her mother had said they would expand on it as they grew, that they would revisit them at a year old. They had never managed to make it to that lesson, with everything that transpired when they were cast out of Ashen.

Modesty took to doodling while she waited. Maybe some of her children would join her, maybe other members of the pack, maybe even someone completely unexpected? She would save the sigils for another lesson, today would be about their place in the world. She hadn't made a great effort to raise her children within the religion, thinking it would be best to be a decision they made for themselves when they were older. Perhaps their sigils could be a sign of that.

As others joined her, a smile graced her lips. "It isn't just those of our bloodline who have the potential to become Gods. While we have inherited our godliness from birth, a mortal bloodline can do great things, and ascend as we do." She canted her head, remembering the words her mother spoke.

"speech"