A discrete offering to Sylaise

Jorah furrowed his brow, looking at the ground now and less at Devante as he made his way.

[color=orange]"These gods became gods somehow, impressed someone. Maybe they can do what the Maker does. I have been told often that there is only the Maker, but..."[/color] he hesitates, briefly checking how Devante might be interpreting this heresy, [color=orange]"I have never been blessed with the light of the Maker, I guess."[/color]

Clearing his throat, he awkardly circled back to the topic of the forest, very noticeably worried about this admission.

[color=orange]"The Elven world must have been very different when they died. I can't picture you haunting such a place,"[/color] Jorah chuckled, attempting a joke.