[Sometimes they fight. Sometimes they clash calamitous, the two of them. But no one else is so attuned to him. No one else just clicks the fuck in. He leans into her arms, edges softening under her kiss. She's so goddamn good.

She listens to him and he tries to listen too, to really hear her preach, even when he's feeling uncertain up about it. He's not sure the uncertainty abates, but it shifts from a worry she's going to tear his faith apart into something... a little more bearable. Not much.

It's not until the last bits of what she says that he's really reconsidering. His voice is a muffled croak.]

That feels Blasphemous. That sounds the sort of thing what would get me executed for blasphemy. [Of course, there's a lot of things he'd be executed for if he were on Alternia now.

He lifts his head a little.]

... Gods are... they're meant to be perfect ain't they? Real gods. They're above all things, they're... better. Than mortals are. [But he can't deny that. If there's a balance then, at some point, someone must be wrong. Right?] Do... you think he made a mistake? [It feels safer to ask, than to question of his own will. He has been devout his whole life.]