Amid the goblin's chatting, one man's mind kept looping back to the night prior.
Gerrart's steady yet unconfident gaze fell to the wagon floor. The occasional bumps weren't enough to keep his thoughts grounded in the present moment.
…
...
"... Then, Master Rizz, are you a prayerful person?"
The scene replayed in front of Gerrart's lowered, narrowed eyes. He vividly recounted the four finger taps the goblin left on his chin, delaying his reply…
"As in religious? … I would guess that I'm not. But if you're asking about the gods, new or old, such deities definitely exist."
A seed of hope budded in Gerrart's heart in the memory. In retrospect, however, there were only weak roots of perplexion.
The red-eyed wolfkin let an uncharacteristically wide smile span his face. "Truly? Then, which of the gods do you believe in, Master Rizz?"
