They lingered in silence until they passed the hole in the snowdrift. Wolfgang's ears twitched as he considered how to reply. "Hunting is difficult." he grunted after a moment, peering at Azriael. "Sometimes you're lucky, sometimes you're not." It sounded less reassuring around a jawful of hare, but he meant it. The gods favour had to be earnt. "I'll make an offering, next time." He was confident that there would be - Wolfgang hadn't been expecting them to get as lucky as they had. It had mostly been an excuse to spend more time with him.
"Anyway," he added with a wry smile, "I think you caught the bigger one anyway. Look at this scrawny thing." he shook the hare to make his point.
Azriael wasn’t looking for comfort or a metaphorical pat on the back. He had just needed to try to defend his wounded pride, that was all. Wolfgang didn't seem to care that he had almost failed or that he had looked ridiculous doing so, but Azriael couldn’t get the fresh memory from the forefront of his head. It was all he could think about - how stupid he must have looked. Of course Wolfgang had caught his hare easily, first try. He didn’t need to flail about. Not that Azriael had seen Wolfgang’s catch, but he could imagine how easy it must have been. He cast a sidelong glance at the king’s catch when asked to and offered a shrug between steps. If he had been better, they probably could have caught more. Azriael looked back down the path, content in his sullen silence. Pine needles prickled under his nearly numb paws.
The cache came into view without another word being spoken by the umber beast. His hare was discarded with little care. His jaws, stained red with fresh and drying blood, flexed against the ache of holding something in them for so long. Blood stained his fur, the front of his mane, where it had dribbled down. He had truly gutted the poor creature in his anger. He stepped back to let Wolfgang store his kill, having pulled ahead to just get the stupid thing out of his mouth. The embarrassment hadn’t faded, the anger was still there, but he wrested for control of his emotions, trying to calm himself.
“Who are your gods?” He asked suddenly, pleased when his voice was quiet and controlled. The question came when Azriael recalled a comment Wolfgang had made earlier. His clan had their own gods, other places he'd visited had theirs. He didn't doubt Wolfgang's gods were different again. Azriael put no faith in any of them, not anymore. His family's gods hadn't helped him when he needed it, despite his once faithful devotions, so either they were all bastards or weren’t there at all. But he was curious about his king’s gods.
There was a long and uneasy silence as they padded back through the pines to the pride cache. It was a snowy cave on the way back to the main caverns. He was more than happy to let Azriael go first into the icy overhang, not wanting to prod his bruised pride, accidentally or otherwise. He looked a sight, bloodied and still maintaining a fierce aura. Had he been of weaker spirit, he might've just shied away then. But instead Wolfgang met it with calm control, brown eyes tracking Azriael's motions.
He followed suit, placing the hare onto the growing cache carefully and padding outside with a even, searching expression written across his masked face. The question Azriael projected, was not what he expected. "My gods...?" he echoed. It hadn't really occurred to him that Azriael wouldn't know of them. He had simply never considered there to be... others. Untravelled, culty as he was. "Is there any in particular you want to know about? There... are a few."
In sharp contrast to Azriael’s rippling ocean tension, Wolfgang was calm - not unlike a quiet lake. It was - well, calming, really. He hadn’t noticed how devoid of reaction the king was until he spoke, but perhaps he had been feeding from it in the silence. Azriael tried to emulate him now, pulling himself into a stiff seat, tucking his tail around his paws. The question seemed to surprise the big male. Azriael nodded. “Your gods. The ones you follow, worship, whatever your people call it.” A brow raised when Wolfgang asked which one he wanted to know about. “I don’t know any of them. Is there a king? A queen?” That seemed to be a common theme; a leader or ruler of the other gods, something to keep them in check. “Are they fair gods, or do you fear them?” He thoughtfully ran a tongue along his top lip, swiping away as much blood as he could. These were probably the deepest questions Azriael had ever asked of Wolfgang - or anyone, actually. The man was probably shocked he was capable of such thought. Rarely did the lion ever allow himself to be so personal but the temptation to find out exactly who - or what - Wolfgang followed was overwhelming. What gods you followed told what sort of man you were. So what did that mean, if Azriael followed none?
Wolfgang was still trying to catch up with the thought of other gods - or no, people thinking there were other gods. It was difficult to allow wiggle room when his entire upbringing, his aspect and identity were based on the gods he had been taught to serve. He was brought to focus by Azriael's questions - yes, that was a good place to start. Ah, but then again...
Wolfgang decided to stop deliberating it and just explain. "Aren is the ruler of his siblings," he began, "He is the god of leaders and secrets. He opened our mortal eyes to the world and let us take and share knowledge. He is judge of our souls when we pass on, and with his one eye he sees through all we are and ever will be." How else did you explain the circles in nature? It was where Aren watched from.
"We, no- everything was created by their father, Tau. He sacrified himself so mortals could thrive without persecution. he felt like he needed to explain the evil, the darkness that had caused it... but invoking the name was bad luck. What was important was Tau's ultimate offering to the world he had drawn into existence.
"None of the gods are fair or cruel in particular," he explained after he'd pause to let that sink in, "They watch us and allow us to take our own paths... unless they need to intervene." he was peering at Azriael with a slight squint, thinking deeply. "We didn't make an offering to Zola and Kasim, so our hunt was difficult." To Wolfgang, it made sense why Azriael had inexplecably fumbled. "Zola didn't trust us to give up the soul of those hares. But Kasim saw your power and rewarded you." And now he realised he had to explain the next pair. It was still running his head in circles that Azriael didn't know these things already.
"Zola is the goddess of prey, she flees eternally and keeps the cycle moving. Kasim is the god of predation and anger. He is fated to chase Zola forever, and balances out the life she gives by teaching us how to hunt." That was putting it simply. The tale of the two had scared him as a child, wondering why Kasim would hunt his own kin... but without balance there would be chaos. He settled his even brown gaze on Azriael, hoping he hadn't overwhelmed him.
Azriael listened, but he also watched. Wolfgang spoke of a few gods, some of them sounding not dissimilar to his family’s deities. It was clear that Wolfgang was not just some lip service preacher. He truly believed that Tau or Aren or whoever were real. Real, fickle gods that needed to be appeased to so much as hunt successfully. Azriael kept his bitter thoughts carefully hidden until a mask of muted interest, ignoring the quips and goading comments that wanted to be free from his mind. “Is that all of them?” He asked mildly. Hunter and hunted, king and father. That didn’t seem like enough if Wolfgang’s gods had roles so specific.
All of them? Wolfgang shook his head. "There are more." he said, wetting his lips as he considered how best to approach it. "Amare is the bringer of fortune. If she speaks your name, it's said good luck will follow you. But she can be hard to please and unpredictable. I'd say she's one of the more chaotic entities." Wolfgang himself rarely tried to meddle with offerings for Amare - he didn't want to damn his soul by offending her.
"Fayola is her counterpart. She brings misfortune and strife wherever she goes, but looks favourably on the resilient and isolated." He liked the tales of Fayola, even as an adult. Her sentinel was inspiring, keeping her dark curse away from her kin. As a child he'd wondered why she'd chosen to be lonely... but as he'd grown Wolfgang had understood the call to duty better.
He paused before he continued, tail flicking contemplatively. "There are two more," he mused, "Kendi and Imani." Honestly, they had been the two that interested him the least as a cub. Love and plants had been boring to a boy more engrossed in exploring and asking difficult questions. "Kendi is the god of love. He connects souls and plays mischeif with mortals." He shrugged slightly, "I don't really know anything else about him."
And lastly, "Imani represents growth and progress. She teaches us how to learn and move forward." Important, he had realised not long ago. "She makes sure prey have food to eat and ensures renewal with the seasons." He watched Azriael's face, curious to see what the burgundy lion thought of it. He was a little suprised to realise he cared about that - usually he could just talk about the gods, regardless of how others reacted. Interesting.
As he’d thought, there were more. The goddesses in Wolfgang’s religion seemed volatile and changing, the male gods less so. But the goddesses were far more interesting, save for Kendi. Mischief, love. That sounded like the sort of god Azriael would have liked to follow once. Wolfgang spoke of them all so easily, almost fondly. It was not unsurprising, really, but he wondered how fervent that devotion ran. He’d said once he’d left his sect to cut his own path, so that had to count for something, right?
It takes a second to notice Wolfgang is looking at him, almost expectantly. "Kendi sounds like my sort of god." Azriael offered quickly with a thin smirk, unable to vocalise any of his more meaningful thoughts for fear of offending the king. He stood and stretched, lowering his front half down to extend his forelegs, taking note of the sore points of muscle that he’d probably pulled at some point during their hunt. He lingered there for a moment, looking up at the king with a grin. "Trouble, mischief, we’d get along great." The love part - well, there were more types of love than Azriael could count, so he’d focus on the fun parts. He tried not to think about the lonely goddess, the one that brings strife, and how very easily he could relate to her story. He stood up, rolling his shoulders. He felt better, though the shame hadn’t faded so much as he’d pushed it down to focus on Wolfgang’s stories, which had been strangely easy. The big idiot was annoyingly calming, his voice not at all the same as the monotonous priests Azriael had grown up half listening to. He actually liked lisenting to Wolfgang.
Wolfgang was suprised to hear that Kendi was Azriael's god of choice. Was he speaking theoretically? Or did he actually know of them prior to now? It puzzled him a little. No, it must have been a "if I had to". He had no reading if he believed. What the information gave him however, was insight into his thoughts - a clue into the mystery that Azriael had presented so far.
"Is that so?" Wolfgang uttered with a smile. He was relieved to see Azriael's mood lift, even if it was only slightly. "I can see it." the emperor teased with a lift of his brow, "I'd say Aren stands out for me." He wanted to be powerful, wanted to strike awe into the many. Well-calculated ambition ran in his veins.
"We should make an offering now, to thank Zola for our fortune." he added then, though it didn't sound entirely like a suggestion - even if Azriael wasn't keen on it, he intended to stay in favour as long as he could.
His comment seemed to please Wolfgang and Azriael’s grin widened. Of course, the king liked the king god. Made sense. Most emperors and leaders tended to follow their deity counterpart to keep their favour. An ear flicked when Wolfgang spoke again, the statement more less a suggestion and more a suggestion. "I’ll go with you, if you like." He definitely heard the we part, but chose to ignore it. He wasn’t about to fall into Wolfgang’s cult - no matter how attractive its members were - but he did want to know what sort of rituals his king performed.
"Of course." he rumbled with a pleased dip of his head. Privately, he was quite happy that Azriael had chosen this option. Although he was usually a reserved soul, Wolfgang was elevated to be able to share something like this... or at least hear Azriael was open to learning.
With a inclination of his head he invited Azriael to walk with him, turning back to the pine forest. They would need to collect a couple things first, but he would know them on sight. Animal bones, some feathers and a couple pinecones.
Wolfgang agreed and turned to head back into the forest. Azriael followed, licking at the dried blood on his maw. Hopefully he’d be able to look at least semi-presentable by the time they reached wherever Wolfgang was leading him. It wasn’t the gods he was trying to impress, but rather rid himself of the evidence of the disaster of a hunt.