what has sunk may rise, what has risen may sink;

[Wrynn]

Oh look, oh my star is fading

She doesn't know anything of dark gods.

She barely knows anything of anything, but she hears the summons. And it's not the fact of who he is (she knows nothing of him, of Carnage, of the legends) but what he asks.

I need you to find her.

She doesn't ask who is asking, she doesn't ask who she's finding. "I'm sorry you've lost her." she speaks, her voice small and quiet against the vastness of his summons. She is still so young, just barely old enough to do something like this, barely more than a babe at Scorch's breast. "But I'll help you find her again." She pauses. "I promise."

And she will, this little girl, this small thing that was born with apologies on her lips, because helping is all that she knows how to do. She is the candle in the wind, the little soul that's simply too good. She is so kind that she is simply begging to be ruined, to be dragged through the mud – or in this case, to the end of the world.

She doesn't know what she volunteers for. She only knows that she wants to help.

wrynn