The Ball had stretched deep into the night, its festivities spanning for hours as platters of food and goblets of wine were passed around. The revelers, both men and women, were all in a state of intoxication, their senses flitting between the realm of reality and the ethereal mist of the night.
It had been quite the sight, leaving Syris to giggle. "Is this what gods perceive mortals to be?"
Altair raised a brow. She had a point. The stronger his perception had become, the more he could see how mortals could be considered mindless drunks before their eyes. Perhaps it had been his arrogance, yet the more he watched them lost in the wine, the more he found himself relating to Syris's words.
He grinned, "Well said. Is this also going into your Bible?"
"I'll have to spews-it-up, but perhaps," Syris said, her lips perking into a lovely smile. "Perhaps I'll compare the perception of a god to the relation between a child and a parent."
