The dangers in using holy names was not lost on Larkspur. He had been warned of such arrogance before, and nodded stoically as Misery explained such things to his child. Tak chose those who were strong enough to face madness—Larkspur was not entirely mad, and perhaps his simple ways had shielded him from much of this. Disembodied voices, as they whispered through the amulet around his neck, were not taken as a defect but as a gift. After all the suffering he had gone through, Larkspur had been granted a boon by his unholy god. Carved across his legs, the fact of the matters was clear; one merely had to look.
His pride for his children was one born out of this odd religious fervor. Blessed by the trio, he gained children that mimicked their patterns. Though Eris had asked for more, he believed that this group had far more power within them than any others would. He dare not speak it aloud; the gods were fickle and cruel, and he did not wish to anger them.
Salvia, entranced by this strange woman, listened to her warnings. It dazzled her to learn that one could be chosen by two gods, and not simply one, as her father had explained it. Faith was the key. If Pandemic were to believe, he would be saved. This was clear. She did not fear for herself—she owned the twilight, and would always be capable of walking between their worlds. Green-yellow eyes, not yet hardened with cruelty, focused on the face of her grandmother with a piercing intensity. This woman was magic. She knew that now.
Larkspur finally spoke, his voice ineloquent and gruff as always, but his eyes nearly glowed with fervor. “One don’t ever turn their back on a god, Salvia. When y’do bad things happen.” At this, the timber cub turned to her father. Is that what happened to Harlowe? The wolf’s dark face twisted into a cruel grimace. His hackles rose at the nape of his neck and trailed to the base of his spine. “Yea. He never believed, n’ th’gods punished ‘im.” The little girl’s green eyes darkened for a moment, all traces of yellow vanishing for a shade much closer to a dead grandfather more demon than anything she had ever known. She had seen what her father had done, and while she did not fear him, she understood the power that he commanded and respected it.
.lark-symbol {font-family:'trebuchet ms', verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; letter-spacing:0px; word-spacing:2px; text-align: left; margin:0px 25px; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/OeIuZ.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; padding:0px 10px 10px 10px; margin:5px auto; width:475px; }
.lark-symbol .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px; text-align:justify; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; margin:5px auto; width:100%;}
.lark-symbol .tagline .sub {font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; font-style:italic; }
.lark-symbol .wc {text-transform: uppercase; font-weight:bold; font-style:normal;}
.lark-symbol p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding:0px 5px;}
.lark-symbol b {letter-spacing:1px; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; letter-spacing:-.05em;}
.lark-symbol u {text-decoration:none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; font-style:italic; font-variant
mall-caps; }</style>
[/html]