The talk with Spirit of Nature was going… surprisingly well.
She seemed to have taken a liking to Liam despite his morbid reputation and blatant sarcasm.
Liam imagined that the Amazonians were the superstitious, secluded type that never bothered except with their own.
Part of that was true. Why else would Spirit of Nature push him to gulp down a glass of poison before choosing to speak with him?
Her demeanor reminded Liam of the Spartans.
Serious folk built and raised for war, but laughed at the grimmest of times.
But he had passed whatever test she was putting him through. And she wasn't hard to speak with.
"So?" Spirit of Nature said, reclining backwards and running a hand through her wild hair.
"What brings you to me? Besides my feminine charm, of course."
She winked.
"I don't think you possess any," Liam said bluntly, and the woman laughed. Spartan. "I can't call you Spirit of Nature. Give me a name?"
