The Unbroken Rites of Naevari and Taemira

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

You have emoted: Lief turns toward the altar of the Unbroken and draws her fingertips along it - over the swirling patterns, the engraved lines, the petals and the lichen. She is quiet for several moments, and then she nods.

You reach out and touch a translucent crystal bindi.
The crystal warms against your forehead, colours tinting the edges of your vision as you call out for the Bloom of Serenity.

You have emoted: Her fingertips making contact with a translucent crystal bindi upon her brow, Lief closes her eyes in prayer and says, her voice strong and clear, "May we Unbroken dance today with the Sword of Serenity upon our Way lined with Blossoms. May our Circle grow wider with Taemira and Naevari."

You tell Taemira, Psalmist of the Treesongs, "You need not pray at this moment - we will open the rite."

You tell Unscarred Naevari, "You need not pray at this moment - we will open the rite."

You have emoted: Lief's eyes open, and she looks to Elexia, to Zitto, to Nialla and an elegant peahen crowned with a ring of perky alabaster feathers.

Standing near you, Elexia reaches up to a translucent crystal bindi now in turn, intoning in a firm voice, "Sword of Serenity, may our roots be so deep as to persevere against whatever storm assails us."

Taemira tells you, "Understood, Unbroken."

Naevari tells you, "I will watch silently, then, and wait until I am bade to do something."

Zitto reaches up to touch a translucent crystal bindi before offering a prayer. "Sword of Serenity, teach us to bend that we may never break."

With a wistful look on his face, Zitto touches a translucent crystal bindi.

With a wistful look on her face, Nialla touches a translucent crystal bindi.

Nialla bows her head as her fingers brush against a translucent crystal bindi, its refracted light dancing across them. "Sword of Serenity, may the darkness that would claim us ever be painted with the brightest colours of our souls."

You have emoted: Lief inhales, exhales, and turns to the altar of the Unbroken once more.

You draw on 25000 of your Cult's essence.
You lift your voice and scream in rage and fury. Wild winds rise, blowing swirls of flower petals about you, their razor edges ready to cut deep. Branches sway, and flowers bend at the display of swirling strength in thousands of hues. Within, the power of the Sword of Serenity blazes, issuing from your form in thorned tendrils to creep throughout Her hallowed realm.

Elexia stands ready, her violet eyes closing and her sable wings closing together behind her in anticipation.

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

You have emoted: Lief's feet plant firmly into the soil before the altar of the Unbroken. She turns, her gray eyes closing as the winds whip about the hilltop in brilliant arrays of color and razor-sharp blossoms.

You tell Regent Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, "You may begin. Goodness, but this takes a lot..."

Even as the fierce winds whip about her, Elexia remains unmoved. She stamps a foot into the soil, her violet eyes opening with a fierce light as she says, "We stand here, not untouched, but bending with the raging winds!" Her voice carries over the storm, and her sable hair whips about in the fury of the gale.

Naevari takes a short step backwards at the display, his eyes widening only minutely, in a gesture that might be easily missed by a less attentive eye.

Elexia glances between Naevari and Taemira, her eyes considering. As the thorny winds lash her, her hands curl into fists. Raising her voice, she asks, "Is this the path you seek? To sprout and bloom admist the gales?"

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

Naevari steps forward, his gaze steely with resolve. "Yes," he answers in a voice at once gentle and firm. "It *is* the path I seek."

Zitto leans in against the wind, his eyes on the initiates.

Taemira watches as the storm builds, though nervous at first, she breathes deep, steeling herself. Her eyes move to meet Elexia's as she calls out over the wind as loud as she can, "Yes, this is the path I seek."

Nialla leans forward into the gale, the wind rippling her fur and Aiteal's feathers, both standing against it together.

Elexia's face remains determined as she twists her foot, digging it deeper into the earth. She nods solemnly, then cries out, "Will you tread this path, coming to full fruitfulness within the storm?" She glances to Taemira, and then to Naevari.

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

You have emoted: Lief's eyes remain closed, her breathing deep and steady as the wind tears through the land. Even in the distance, vines can be seen rippling through watercolor landscapes; here, though they never strike, they threaten underfoot.

Naevari bobs his head in a nod -- a firm, almost forceful gesture -- and lifts a hand to brush his windswept locks from his face. "Yes," he calls out, more loudly this time. "I will tread this path, and come to full fruitfulness within the storm."

Taemira focuses intently as her small form is buffeted by the storm. Carefully she wriggles her toes, seeks a deeper, stronger purchse on which to stand. Once steadier she lifts her voice, "I will tread this path, coming to full fruitness within the storm."

Once more, Elexia dips her head soberly. Even with their folding together, the winds catch on the thin filaments of her wings and twist them together, as if threatening to lift her to the skies. However, she remains firm, intoning, "Will you still gather of your fruits, even in the biting whirlwind?"

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

Naevari keeps his hand at his brow, holding his tangled locks clear of his face even as the wind tugs violently at them, causing their ends to thrash back and forth in the air. "I will gather of my fruits," he calls out every bit as loudly as before, "even in the biting whirlwind."

Wings fluttering to steady her as needed while long, chestnut waves whip about wildly, Taemira takes a deep breath, standing as resolutely as her diminutive form will allow in the raging storm, "I will gather of my fruits, even in the biting wind."

Elexia bows her head in recognition to Taemira and Naevari. Then, with slow, purposeful steps which sent her foot firmly into the loam, she steps back to stand beside you once more.

Zitto steps towards Taemira and Naevari, one arm raised to shield his face from the fierce winds. Having drawn near, he lowers his arm and speaks, his sharp, precise pronunciation clear through the windstorm. To the initiates he puts the question, "As the apple tree yields its fruit for our sustenance, what will you yield of yourself to us?"

You tell Taemira, Psalmist of the Treesongs, "Choose between yourself and Naevari - who will offer first."

You tell Unscarred Naevari, "Choose between you and Taemira - who will offer first."

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

You have emoted: Lief digs her toes into the soil, into the fallen petals, against the roots which bulge and sprawl. Her breathing steady, her eyes open, and she looks at Taemira. She looks at Naevari. Her eyes flash with prismatic color as she watches and she listens.

Hand still clutching at his hair, holding fast to it so that it doesn't whip about too wildly, Naevari takes a couple of unsteady steps forward into the wind. "I will yield five poems," he calls out. "From a collection I'm writing called 'Seasons.'"

Zitto extends a hand to Naevari palm up, and gives him an expectant look.

A rueful smile tugging at his lips, Naevari shakes his head, his hair whipping about violently in the wind. "I don't have them in writing," he calls out. "I would have to recite each in turn."

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

Elexia's eyebrows raise slightly, and there is the very faintest tilt of her head as her violet eyes watch Naevari.

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Zitto says, "We're making him recite the poems, aren't we?"

You have emoted: A sudden grin pierces Lief's otherwise steady expression, fiercely proud in the gales which blow.

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Elexia says, "But of course!"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): You say, "Make him recite them - he may find it easier if he draws closer to us beneath the tree."

Naevari glances around at the gathered faces, still smiling ruefully, then calls out again, "The first poem from the part of the collection, which is entitled 'Spring.' It's called 'A Birth.'"

Hair still whipping about wildly, his voice raised so as to pierce the winds, Unscarred Naevari intones, "Red fur wrenched into..."

Unscarred Naevari intones, "...blinding light and bitter cold."

Unscarred Naevari intones, "Wailing rends the air."

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

You have emoted: As the winds whip around the gathering, Lief's grin returns to steadiness, and she listens to Naevari with twitching ears, with piercing eyes.

Taemira keeps her attention upon Naevari, silently listening for his words upon the storm.

Naevari glances from face to face again, his gaze catching on your for just a moment longer than the others, before once more returning to whatever indeterminable point in space holds his attention as he recites. Finally, he calls out, loudly so as to once more make himself audible through the winds. "And this next one is from the second part, entitled 'Summer.' It's called 'Innocence.'"

Hand still holding his hair fast against his brow, Unscarred Naevari intones, "Saplings in the wind."

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

Unscarred Naevari intones, "Swaying as one, pulled westward."

Unscarred Naevari intones, "Toward looming clouds."

Elexia's pointed ears twitch slightly, and she closes her violet eyes for a time. When she opens them again, a faint smile twitches at her lips, before the serious look replaces it.

An elegant peahen crowned with a ring of perky alabaster feathers lifts her head to the sky and makes a resonant, honking call.

Zitto smiles as the storm continues to rage, though his expectant eyes remain fixed on Naevari.

You have emoted: Lief's gaze continues to watch Naevari, prismatic color flashing within as the earth itself ripples with thorned tendrils, their colors lashing in kind.

A smile flickers briefly across Naevari's face as he glances once more between the gathered Unbroken, his hair still struggling to escape from his hand. And then, a moment later, it gives way to another expression -- a quiet, thoughtful one that's very nearly a frown. "This next poem is a tanka!" he calls out, clearly straining his voice to be heard. "Three lines weren't enough! It's called... 'The Tang of Apples'! It's from the part, entitled 'Autumn.'"

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

As loudly as the elfen can seem to manage, Unscarred Naevari intones, "The tang of apples."

Unscarred Naevari intones, "Bitter and sweet, ripe and new."

Unscarred Naevari intones, "Not for me alone."

Unscarred Naevari intones, "A grove to visit yearly."

Unscarred Naevari intones, "And always bitter and sweet."

You have emoted: Lief's antlered head cants just slightly. Apple blossoms shed from the tree behind her, caught on the howling wind, weaving through her antlers where some snag and catch.

Biting down on his bottom lip, regarding the gathered Unbroken with an expression that looks suddenly uncertain, Naevari shifts his weight from foot to foot, then looks off to the side, as though at some point in space that only he can see. His hair thrashes about violently in front of his face, even held firm as it is by his soil-stained hand. "This one..." he begins at length, perhaps too quietly to be heard by everyone present. "This one," he calls out more loudly, turning his gaze back to his audience once more. "This one I'm not happy with! But! As there's nothing else from 'Winter' I've written yet!" And then he smiles ruefully, parting his lips in what looks like it might be a chuckle, even though whatever it is, it's drowned out by the wind. "I'm calling 'A Hatchling Falls from the Nest!" he yells, only to qualify, a moment later, "Tentatively, anyway!"

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

Voice audibly straining to be heard once more, Unscarred Naevari intones, "'Good night,' they whispered!"

Unscarred Naevari intones, "Tears glistening in their eyes!"

Unscarred Naevari intones, "Morning never came!"

You have emoted: An impulsive grin tugs at Lief's face again, only to fade as she listens, her eyes scarcely blinking, not even in the lashing winds.

Elexia's violet eyes close, and one of her fists uncurls to bring her hand over her heart. She dips her head, then as it raises returns her hand to her side.

Zitto spares Taemira an knowing, expectant smile as the poetry continues, then returns his attention to Naevari.

Nialla sways in the wind, her eyes half closed as she listens to Naevari, an elegant peahen crowned with a ring of perky alabaster feathers watching intently with her golden eyes.

"And the last poem, 'Ice Thaws'! From the fifth part of the collection, entitled 'Spring'!" Naevari calls out into the winds. Very briefly, then, his mouth opens once more, and he throws his head back uncharacteristically, and dimly, through the gale, the elfen can be heard to laugh.

Unscarred Naevari intones, "Ice thaws, revealing!"

Unscarred Naevari intones, "Damp loam, a tiny sapling!"

Unscarred Naevari intones, "A first hopeful sprout!"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): You say, "His throat must be burning."

Zitto turns to each of the gathered cultist in turn, a piercing gaze that seems to ask a question.

(The Cult of the Unbroken): You say, "These are excellent poems - they speak of..."

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Elexia says, "Indeed! But it is a very impressive offering!"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Zitto says, "Do we approve?"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Elexia says, "Aye!"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Nialla says, "Aye."

(The Cult of the Unbroken): You say, "An excellent offering in the spirit of Communion. Aye."

Elexia meets Zitto's gaze, a bold smile rising to her lips as she nods.

Zitto Shevat says to Naevari, "Your gift is received with approval and appreciation. Thank you for what you have shared in Communion."

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Nialla says, "Made all the more impressive by the recitation in these winds."

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

You have emoted: Lief's chin dips a fraction toward Zitto, her prismatic eyes briefly lingering on him before flickering to Naevari.

You tell Unscarred Naevari, "I look forward to the rest of this collection, Naevari. I sense something within the words you have recited, and I think we would all read more."

Naevari's chest heaves visibly, and his hair whips wildly in the gale. He nods several times in sequence, looking utterly exhausted. "Thank you for listening!" he calls out and steps backwards, glancing over his shoulder at Taemira.

(The Cult of the Unbroken): You say, "Indeed!"

Naevari tells you, "I... You are kind to say so, Lief. Thank you."

Zitto turns to Taemira, his loose-fitting white clothing billowing wildly in the winds. The expectant look once more one returns to his face, and he extends his arm, palm up.

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

You have emoted: Lief's eyes shifts from Naevari to settle on Taemira. She remains quiet, color whirling in her eyes, watchful, listening.

After Naevari finishes his recitations, Taemira smiles brightly and carefully steps forward with the package clutched tightly to her chest, "I bring the first fruits of my new life after I resolved to brave that which I feared." She pauses, looking to you with a bit of an amused smile, "Though I did not know it at the time, it seems it is far more fitting than I could have known."

Elexia's expression grows into a soft smile as she looks at Taemira, a mix of pride and curiosity in her gaze.

You have emoted: Lief likewise watches Taemira, though as the colors lash about here, and as they reflect themselves within the faeling's eyes, she betrays little except her steadiness, her expectation.

You tell Taemira, Psalmist of the Treesongs, "The shawls came out beautifully. I followed your pattern precisely."

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

Taemira offers the package to Zitto, "Within are seven silken shawls. Upon them apple blossoms dance freely in the wind in an elegant choreography. Within their dance lies a reminder to bend, not break." She grimaces a bit against the wind as it causes a few tips of her hair to lash against her face, "The shape itself, thanks to finely placed silvery thread gives the appearance of dragonfly wings to serve as a comfort, and reminder of who guides us upon the path of the Unbroken. I have brought seven of them, one for each gathered here, plus one for our Lady."

Taemira gives a paper seed package to Zitto Shevat.

Taemira tells you, "Thank you for crafting them. I.. I had no idea how fitting it was. I'm glad you liked it."

Zitto once again turns to each of the gathered cultist in turn, his expression curious.

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

Naevari's chest still heaves, and the expression on his face is still one of utter exhaustion, but for all of that, there's an alertness to his eyes as he listens to Taemira speak, an intentness that only grows as the nature of her gift becomes clear.

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Zitto says, "Do we approve?"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): You say, "Let us see them!"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Elexia says, "Aye!"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Zitto says, "Should I show one off?"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Elexia says, "Please do!"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): You say, "Yes - and then we may take them for ourselves after the rite."

Zitto takes a silken apple blossom shawl from a paper seed package.

Zitto walks around the circle, showing the shawl to those gathered.

Zitto proudly shows off a silken apple blossom shawl:
Two overlapping panels of diaphanous snow-white silk serve as the canvas for this delicate shawl. Apple blossoms swirl and dance upon the pristine argent field, as if joyfully dancing upon the eddies of a gentle breeze. Though their effervescent waltz may seem without purpose, the leaps and pirouettes of the blossoms entwine with masterful choreography to form the words, 'bend, not break'. In the backdrop of this mirthful wonder of dance, delicate strands of silvery thread criss-cross throughout, which, when coupled with its gossamer nature and dual panels, give the shawl the appearance of dragonfly wings.

Elexia's eyebrows raise with her curiousity, and she leans forward slightly to betterlook upon the silken apple blossom shawl. As she straightens her posture, she nods to Zitto with approval.

You have emoted: Lief's eyes follow Zitto and the silken shawl held draped over his hands. There's a hint of familiarity in the way she examines it, but her hand reaches out to touch its edge when it draws near her. She finds Zitto's eyes and she nods.

Nialla tilts her head as she examine sthe shawl, eyes going from it to Taemira before returning to Zitto.

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Zitto says, "Nialla, do you approve?"

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.

Zitto Shevat says to Taemira, "Your gift is received with approval and appreciation. Thank you for what you have shared with your fellows."

Zitto steps away, taking a place in the circle once more.

Taemira breathes a sight of relief and steps back.

Razor sharp flower blossoms whip through the air on raging winds, while underfoot, thorned tendrils rise from the ground to lash out in thousands of vivid hues.
The malevolent emanations of the Unbroken fade away.

Nialla steps forward through the raging wind, each one measured and deliberate, finding firm footing to keep her rooted before taking the next. The alabaster peahen at her side approaches with equal care, eyes shining with an ethereal light as her gaze shifts from Taemira to Naevari and back, mimicking the foxkin's. "You have stood with us against the storm," she intones, her voice rising above the gale. "You have given of yourself as the tree does the apple. Will you continue on this path? Will you bend without breaking?"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): You say, "After they have affirmed, let us bless Naevari first, and then Taemira, in the order of their gifts."

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Elexia says, "Aye, Unbroken!"

You have emoted: A soft exhale leaving her lips, Lief's gaze softens as she looks between Naevari and Taemira, listening, the color in her eyes no longer quite so violent as before.

Taemira takes a deep breath once more as she finds her footing. The faeling cries out as loud as she can muster, "I will continue along this path with all that I am. I will bend without breaking!"

Naevari dips his head into a nod, letting it hang limply for a moment before righting it once more. He favors Nialla with a warm smile, albeit one that looks more than a little exhausted, and echoes quietly, in a voice now somewhat hoarse, "I will continue along this path with all that I am. I will bend without breaking."

Her solemn expression replaced by a rising smile, Elexia strides before Naevari, standing as tall as such a small faeling is able. "Stalwart Naevari - May whatever storms and winds come to assail you find you indomitable. As you yield to the gale, know that it shall never break you. For you have chosen this path, shared in our Communion, and you are forever Unbroken." In a gesture of respect, her hands fold before her and she dips her head in a bow before stepping back.

Nialla smiles at each in turn before stepping closer to Naevari. "Then may your voice ring every true, may no wind overcome it. May your words be heard in every corner of the basin as you prove yourself Unbroken."

Zitto smiles widely as he approaches Naevari and offers a short blessing. "May you never be silenced, even amidst the storm."

You have emoted: Lief's dragonfly wings carry her to Naevari where she hovers at eye level. She looks him directly in the eye before her hands reach forward, and she takes his hands into her own. Her dragonfly wings humming, she leans close to him and whispers for his ears alone.

You tell Unscarred Naevari, "May the music in your heart guide you forward. May the seeds of the past lead to new fruits and new springs. Lean on me as I will lean on you - together, we will be Unbroken."

You draw on 50000 of your Cult's essence.
You welcome Naevari into your Divine Cult.

(The Cult of the Unbroken): You say, "Naevari is now of our Unbroken Circle."

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Elexia says, "Welcome, Naevari!"

You have emoted: Lief draws back, releasing Naevari's hands as she smiles broadly, then motions for him to join the Circle.

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Zitto says, "Welcome, Naevari!"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Nialla says, "Welcome!"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): You say, "When you are ready, please offer Taemira her blessings."

Next, Elexia pads upon the loam to stand before Taemira, a warm light in her violet eyes. "Dear Taemira - May your roots be firm. In yourself, and in your Communion with the Unbroken. You shall stand tall, and grow not in spite of the storms, but because of them. You are beloved of the Lady, and you are forever Unbroken." She reaches out a hand to cup Taemira's cheek in a tender gesture, before she steps back to take up her previous position in the circle.

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Naevari says, "Thank you, all of you."

Nialla turns then to Taemira, crossing the distance that parts them. "May your colours ever paint the world in beauty. May you shine ever brighter, and show to the world that though it's may bend you, you are, and shall ever be, Unbroken."

Zitto offers Taemira a warm, friendly smile and a short blessing. "May you ever find grace and beauty even amidst the storm."

Looking as though he's struggling even to stay upright, Naevari bobs his head in another tired nod as you draws back, his gaze thoughtful and a little wide as he watches you wing away.

You have emoted: Still bobbing in the air, Lief wings nearer to Taemira, where she settles her feet on the earth. She searches the other faeling's eyes, her gray irises glittering as she reaches out to take both of Taemira's hands into her own. Stepping closer, she leans in and whispers for her ears alone.

Naevari cranes his neck, now, to watch Taemira instead.

You tell Taemira, Psalmist of the Treesongs, "May the winds that batter you find you rooted firm and standing tall. May you ever find your voice even in the fiercest of gales. Lean on me as I will lean on you - together, we will be Unbroken."

You draw on 50000 of your Cult's essence.
You welcome Taemira into your Divine Cult.

(The Cult of the Unbroken): You say, "Taemira is now of our Unbroken Circle."

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Elexia says, "Welcome, Taemira!"

You have emoted: Lief releases Taemira's hands, then beckons her before the apple tree.

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Zitto says, "Welcome, Taemira!"

An elegant peahen crowned with a ring of perky alabaster feathers lowers her head and stares at Naevari, eyes alight with a preternatural glow, as a stream of sparkling smoke blows out her nostrils and forms a reflection of Naevari.

You beam broadly at an elegant peahen crowned with a ring of perky alabaster feathers.

An elegant peahen crowned with a ring of perky alabaster feathers twitches her head to one side, staring at you with a bright, glittering eye.

An elegant peahen crowned with a ring of perky alabaster feathers lowers her head and stares at Taemira, eyes alight with a preternatural glow, as a stream of sparkling smoke blows out her nostrils and forms a reflection of Taemira.

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Naevari says, "Welcome, Taemira."

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Nialla says, "Welcome, Taemira."

Taemira reaches up and wipes away the tears that have sprung up as she steps forward to join the others.

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Naevari says, "Your shawl... I never said... It's very beautiful."

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Elexia says, "It is truly a wonderful gift... And your poems, Naevari - so well-crafted!"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Nialla says, "Both of you should be proud of them."

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Naevari says, "Ah, well... You were able to hear them, then."

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Taemira says, "Thank you all. Thank you, I'm glad you liked it. I'd been fretting a bit of how people would like it for a little while now. As were your poems, Naevari."

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Zitto says, "I've got an iron grasp on these shawls. Nobody's getting one until the ritual's complete."

You have emoted: Lief exhales, clasping her hands before herself briefly before she looks to Zitto. "Maybe Taemira may hand out our shawls, now, and you and I may make our gifts?" she smiles at him.

(The Cult of the Unbroken): You say, "We have given our blessings - let us celebrate!"

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Naevari says, "Thank you, all of you. And you shouldn't have... Fretted, I mean. It's a work of art, truly."

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Zitto says, "There is very clearly supposed to be a prayer and a healing breeze. I must insist."

(The Cult of the Unbroken): Zitto says, "I insist because afterwards there is meant to be food."