(She had stopped believing in the the Seven when her prayers for her family - and for herself - had been met with silence. How can any god exist and accept such cruelty and violence? How can any god ignore the desperate, practically constant pleas of someone who had been faithful to them their entire life? It made sense, then, that they didn't exist and Sansa had begun to rely on herself.
Because of her shift in thinking and her long-suffering under a variety of monsters, she has found her way back to Winterfell - where she rules, side by side, with her bastard brother, Jon Snow. Even as she gives her loyalty to her brother and their home, she keeps all avenues open. Some monsters are useful and if she must live in a world of them, she will, at least, understand how to use them.
Therefore, it is understandable, that when she is called a "god" upon entry, she is...confused. She learns that she is "Dali" - as if that is a helpful moniker - and she learns that she is the goddess of the hunt for...Georgian mythology? She has never heard of Georgia and if she truly is a god, why couldn't she ever answer her own prayers?
Then again, in a way, hasn't she? For who else could she have relied on but circumstance and chance? The tall young woman is rather foreboding in her Northern furs and her grey dress embroidered with the Stark Dire-Wolf. Her bright auburn hair is bound in a braid and she is watching everyone intently, calculating their intentions and where she falls in this strange group.)
Are all gods so weak? So human?
R e f r e s h ments
(She finds some lemonade and decides it is rather tasty. She sips on it idly at one of the sitting areas, divesting herself of the heavier furs. Underneath, her form is slight - slighter, perhaps, than it should be - and she cannot help looking a little lost.
Such feelings are normal when one's religious views are turned on their head. There hasn't been one godly name that she has recognized yet. Where are the Seven? The Old Gods? She clutches her glass a little tighter and sucks in a sharp breath.
What will become of Jon in her absence? What is she expected to do here?)
no subject
(She had stopped believing in the the Seven when her prayers for her family - and for herself - had been met with silence. How can any god exist and accept such cruelty and violence? How can any god ignore the desperate, practically constant pleas of someone who had been faithful to them their entire life? It made sense, then, that they didn't exist and Sansa had begun to rely on herself.
Because of her shift in thinking and her long-suffering under a variety of monsters, she has found her way back to Winterfell - where she rules, side by side, with her bastard brother, Jon Snow. Even as she gives her loyalty to her brother and their home, she keeps all avenues open. Some monsters are useful and if she must live in a world of them, she will, at least, understand how to use them.
Therefore, it is understandable, that when she is called a "god" upon entry, she is...confused. She learns that she is "Dali" - as if that is a helpful moniker - and she learns that she is the goddess of the hunt for...Georgian mythology? She has never heard of Georgia and if she truly is a god, why couldn't she ever answer her own prayers?
Then again, in a way, hasn't she? For who else could she have relied on but circumstance and chance? The tall young woman is rather foreboding in her Northern furs and her grey dress embroidered with the Stark Dire-Wolf. Her bright auburn hair is bound in a braid and she is watching everyone intently, calculating their intentions and where she falls in this strange group.)
Are all gods so weak? So human?
R e f r e s h ments
(She finds some lemonade and decides it is rather tasty. She sips on it idly at one of the sitting areas, divesting herself of the heavier furs. Underneath, her form is slight - slighter, perhaps, than it should be - and she cannot help looking a little lost.
Such feelings are normal when one's religious views are turned on their head. There hasn't been one godly name that she has recognized yet. Where are the Seven? The Old Gods? She clutches her glass a little tighter and sucks in a sharp breath.
What will become of Jon in her absence? What is she expected to do here?)
Who am I?