Lethys keeps himself busy. There are Villages to maintain; there are always Villages to maintain. Many gods thrive on busywork, and after his time under Nemesis' thumb, Lethys finds stability in it. The stronger god's ambition was insatiable, and Lethys' task had been establishing footholds in his name. Failing to show the same ambition was met with punishment.
Lethys has no inclination currently to try to seize Monzun's territory - this would be a fool's errand - but solidifying his own is reassuring.
He flits back and forth between his Temple and the town on the mountain and the thin, straggly Village in its shadow. He fills stores, and in rare moments he seeks out Villagers who have accidentally become injured and Heals them, surreptitiously, choosing his moments when rumour will more dramatically spread. More than one body is damaged in some small way by Laetes' incessant pacing; he should try harder to stamp out that habit.
His small Miracles here and there are enough for continued faith. For a while he lingers over their homes, listening. For a while now the desire to expand and make room has been steadily climbing. For the diminished size of the Village, it's no wonder.
This Desire he ignores, and has been ignoring for a long time. The forests this side of the mountain range are in a pitiful state; what they'd use to build homes would be stolen from their fires next winter. The land needs time. (Or a Hand more inclined to stewardship. For a moment, his attention flicks to the lone, stolen tree, but he bitterly turns away.)
When his Villages desire for little, Lethys finds himself tracing his realm, taking the time to look closer than a bird's view of the Land. He probes the thin, young trees in the crook of the mountain, takes stock of the season, and of his people and their fields and the children playing and dancing.
When his attention finally lands on the trespassing Leopard, Lethys is feeling unusually quiet.
Perhaps this is why, when he sees her bothering some of his realm's wildlife, he does not immediately reach for a lightning bolt.
Lethys pins his presence directly over her head, and speaks.
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syntheid
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Date: 2025-04-01 12:18 pm (UTC)Lethys has no inclination currently to try to seize Monzun's territory - this would be a fool's errand - but solidifying his own is reassuring.
He flits back and forth between his Temple and the town on the mountain and the thin, straggly Village in its shadow. He fills stores, and in rare moments he seeks out Villagers who have accidentally become injured and Heals them, surreptitiously, choosing his moments when rumour will more dramatically spread. More than one body is damaged in some small way by Laetes' incessant pacing; he should try harder to stamp out that habit.
His small Miracles here and there are enough for continued faith. For a while he lingers over their homes, listening. For a while now the desire to expand and make room has been steadily climbing. For the diminished size of the Village, it's no wonder.
This Desire he ignores, and has been ignoring for a long time. The forests this side of the mountain range are in a pitiful state; what they'd use to build homes would be stolen from their fires next winter. The land needs time. (Or a Hand more inclined to stewardship. For a moment, his attention flicks to the lone, stolen tree, but he bitterly turns away.)
When his Villages desire for little, Lethys finds himself tracing his realm, taking the time to look closer than a bird's view of the Land. He probes the thin, young trees in the crook of the mountain, takes stock of the season, and of his people and their fields and the children playing and dancing.
When his attention finally lands on the trespassing Leopard, Lethys is feeling unusually quiet.
Perhaps this is why, when he sees her bothering some of his realm's wildlife, he does not immediately reach for a lightning bolt.
Lethys pins his presence directly over her head, and speaks.
"Creature. That does not belong to you."