Mahle couldn't help but to crack a smile as Kjors showed interest in her new skill. Nobody had ever seemed too concerned with whatever it was the priestess wasted her time with; unfortunately enough that actually ended often in her feelings getting hurt. She nodded toward her company and allowed her tail to sway ever so slightly in the light breeze. 'He truly is something, isn't he?' she chuckled to herself, then concentrated on the correct mindset for her practice.
The priestess had never been quite too sure of how she accomplished such acts, though talking to the higher power had always came to her as easy as breathing. Previous nervousness seemed to go to waste as Kjors' 'mother' entered her thoughts almost effortlessly. She continued on with her usual one-sided conversation as she felt the deity's energy remain present, hopefully listening to anything Mahle could possibly muster up to say. With her previous pack, the former-princess's efforts weren't nearly as strong when it came to granting forgiveness, though she couldn't help but feel some sort of strange connection between herself and her acquaintance. It was absolutely necessary for this specific God to understand Kjors' innocence toward his faith, emphasis would be the key to ending his chain of misfortune.
Only after she was completely one-hundred percent satisfied with her spiel did Mahle bow her end, ending her ritual and cutting communication from the 'Mother'. She was indeed well pleased, and her tail began to sway just a touch faster than before. Going back to previous conversation, Kjors wasted no time pulling her away from her smug state to question her current living situations. "Oh,, uh.." having been caught off guard, the priestess had to take a moment to recall common information. "Silent moon plateau.." she let out a sheepish smile as the name slipped from her muzzle. "They're feeding me great, actually. Though the company isn't exactly the most pleasant." rolling her eyes, the medicinal canine couldn't help but find Celandine's angry mug gazing upon her from inside of her thoughts. " I suppose it's not right to complain.."
Word count: 349
I play among the stars and then fall so low.
Mahle PsyxḗI'm a fugitive that has no legs to run.
I'm a preacher with no pulpit,
Spewing a sermon that goes on and on.