Vallen sat cross legged on one of the many hunting trails, piling sand into neat mounds roughly in the shapt of the star in the middle of his older sister's forhead. Seze had recently left to go on an adventure with a band of warriors. This act was sanctioned by their father, and Seze had promised to come home straight away if the alkidikes were to pose a greater threat then raiding hapless travellers. He missed her already and she hadn't been gone long at all. He looked up that the full moon and asked that Shirin watch over his sister. Vallen saw the goddess as a calm, fair, rational presence guiding and protecting her skin shifting people.

Vallen looked at his moon pale arm and contrasted it with his memories of the dark skin of the day and thought himself lucky that he didn't turn a blinding orange color in the sun. Maybe they would have if they were of the sun instead of the moon. He liked the idea of being of the moon, it was somewhat tangible from its lofty perch in the sky. The only other tangible goddess was the alkidike tree. And while there was no doubt in his mind that she was their mother he had some doubt that Aisha was a deity, she was a physical being and in even his own pantheon you couldn't touch or really communicate with your deities, barring the leaf people who apparently saw a spirit in absolutely everything.

That seemed somewhat high maintenance to him, a spriti in all things was to him too many to keep track of without the practive becoming somewhat rediculous. Almost as bad were the Obans and Matori peoples, they too had far too many deities, on eor two was much better, there was no way people could remember all those names and what each presided over.

Then there was wind and ice, not bad overall but if you lieved in such cold places, why remind yourself of your chilly misery by worshipping an ice goddess no matter her name. Wouldn't that just drive home hte point that you are quite cold? In his somewhat less than humble opinion Sherin was the best goddess out there. He nodded to himself, how fortunate that he had been born a shifter and did not have to learn all of the others in more tan an academic sense.

Still as his sister had shown it would be nice to at least see these new places. It wouldn't be the forest though, and he had to admit that he was rather attatched to his crazy jungle, with its kooky inhabitants. It was home, where he felt he belonged, under the glowing eye of Serin herself becaseu why would she bled the other territories with her benevolent gaze. She would stay over the forest and guide her peoples. He knew deep down that she at least existed, her and the tree, fortunately both in Jauhar, the best territory, that was why everyone wanted to live here obviously, he didn't blamce them for liking it after all. He picked up a large wet leaf and flipped it back and forth playfully, a denizen of the forest playing with its scenery; that was until he flicked it too hard and with a wet smack the leaf stuck to his face. 'Hmm slimey.' he thought, peeling the leaf off, leaving a wet spot on his face. "Blegh". That was the downside to living in the rainforest. Things were often wet, but with the coming of summer according to his parents it shouldn't be quiet this wet all the time. He tilted his head to look at the sky; however it wasn't summer yet. He went thoguht his full list of prayers this time and started the trek back. Maybe they should have a rain goddess too. maybe Serin could have a daughter and she could be the controller of the rain becuase right now it seemed to ust do it whenever with no rhyme or reason, drizel or downpour.

Maybe after all this rain the Oban's would pick up their things and go home to dry clothes and fry gods and goddesses. tht got him to thinking if Serin could get wet, she seemed to hide behind the clouds thwn it rained, he guessed that she didn't like it much either. He felt somewhat warmer for the thought as the rain let loose around him. Rain liek this called for a blanket, and something warm and hot to eat. It was home time for sure. He shook himself once he was through the front door, his parents were a bit odd picking a house over simple hammocks but that was good on days like these. The rain drummed liquid fingers on the roof as Val crawled under a furry blanket. Safe, warm and drying off, it had been a good day in Jauhar.

Word Count: 823