Lathander flapped his wings and checked his body in a panic... Damn it, that old immortal was ruthless! He almost didn't make it.
Losing a tiny bit of divine power didn't matter, but could the fun of watching things unfold from thousands of miles away—relying entirely on one's own guesswork as to where things were more interesting—ever compare to watching right next to the action, keeping up with current events, and being able to stick one's oar in at any moment?
He absolutely could not lose such a wonderful life just for being a chatterbox!
Following the usual custom of the Undead, the giant Golden Peacock used its wing to draw a long, golden zipper across its beak, then slumped its head and crept back to the lawn to continue lying down... He would have to be careful in the future; those kinds of remarks were still best left to Selûne.
Hill stared at the glowing golden zipper in the air for a moment: the Lord of Dawn certainly had a very good relationship with the Undead, understanding even what that gesture meant.
Only then did he give a faint smile... It seemed the World Tree was also paying attention to matters here in Toril, and had furthermore discovered him here.
If Hill were merely a descendant of the Earth Goddess, the World Tree might not have been so guarded... He had numerous children, and his multi-generational descendants were scattered throughout the Multiverse, with quite a few working for others.
Yet Hill also possessed a portion of the Earth Goddess's divine soul, which differed very little from a biological child of his own... At worst, this was a real grandson!
And not the kind born without pain... This single remaining seedling, nurtured through painstaking effort, how could he possibly throw