"Of course the culprit is amongst our kind, a deity, that much is as clear as a cloudless sky,"
Grey interjects and drums her fingers over the table, carving lines into the wood with the edges of her fingernails.
"The question is
who
, and in order to decipher this detail I’d suggest we thoroughly examine the events that have happened thus far."
The raven swerves overhead into a circle, interconnecting with its flight path, a feather moulting from its arced, outstretched wing.
"As we narrow suspects down by process of elimination, only then would we know which faiths to target."
"As far as I’m aware, the culprit has maintained an iron grip over that beast with a motive obscure to us, which, as you can tell, is not very helpful."
"As for death, I can say that the names of gods and mortals alike are on the tip of its tongue, forsaking none in its indiscriminate omnicide. We have lived long, but death has
not
forgotten us, Elatha."
Her head inclines, to a stretch of blue interspersed with grey, and her eyes peer at her raven.
"I can start by dispatching my ravens across the far lengths of the Eonfold with warnings, which may reduce potential deicide."
The raven caws, a few passing compatriots outside of the cafe of New York sparing a brief glance, and Grey flattens her lips into a frown.