[Jaykobell]

As far as Clovis was concerned, he was curious to see Timoteo's reaction to this man's claims. The bishop was an open and honest man, but surely, even he had a limit.

When the words came out of the man's mouths, Clovis waited. Timoteo's face remained blank for a moment, and Clovis couldn't help but to feel a certain sense of victory. Of course the whole premise was impossible. Of course this man couldn't be a fallen God, as he claimed. There was no such thing.

Timoteo stared for a moment; but then his face softened, as he tilted it slightly to the side. "Is that so?" he asked at first. "This is unfortunate. I learned of a sky God many, many moons ago, but the name eludes me," he added, and he stroke his chin. "And now I wonder if we had even learned his name at all."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he went on to say, and he faltered where he would have used an honorific for the fallen God. Calling him "sir" seemed improper. But what else to call him? "I'm not sure what we can do. How long have you been here, as a man? At most, we can offer you lodging during this difficult time." For the time being, that seemed like the best thing to do, to give this fallen God some time to get used to this whole thing.

And throughout this entire conversation, Clovis's face went from a satisfactory victory, to a ghost who couldn't believe a thing of what he had just heard.

A face which didn't discourage Timoteo from giving help to this man. "We will do our best to help you in this difficult time. What is your name?"

[MythicDusk]

Gwythur was almost amazed at the preist's response. The gentle tone, the comforting words. The way that he just accepted what he was saying so easily. He felt new emotions push up from his chest, tickling at the back of his throat, threataning to burst over into thick, blubbering tears.

He felt the first few trickle down his cheeks, and he felt a need to close his eyes, to turn his face away and let the sobs wrack through him.

"Thank you, so much." He whimpered, eventually wiping the tears from his face, his fingers trembling as he did. "It's been. It has been incredibly hard. I've been a man roughly three days. I still don't understand, well, anything." He laughed nervously, snipping and wiping a tear away. "Everything I know, I learned from observing you all."

[Jaykobell]

Timoteo nodded sympathetically as the man explained his situation. Judging from his reaction, just a little bit of understanding was all the man had been looking for. "I can only imagine," he agreed after hearing the fallen God's words. "But don't worry: we'll do our best to help you. The path of a man is difficult, but we will teach you everything we can," he promised, offering the sky God a confident smile.

"Clovis," he added, turning slightly to the priest, who continued to look dumbfounded even as he turned to glance at the bishop, "could you please escort this man to a room? One that he can use while he stays with us," he instructed, all the while turning back to the God.

"That is, if you would like to stay here for a while, mister...?" Of course, they couldn't stop him if the God desired to roam or go elsewhere. For now, though, if he wished to stay, the church could provide shelter as they did their best to show him the ropes of living among the mortals.

[MythicDusk]

Gwythur couldn't help his relieved, watery smile. He sniffed carefully, wiping his eyes again before clearing his throat at the soft prompting for his name. "Ah, my apoligies. Gwythur. My true name is-" He paused for a moment, he could feel the hex constricting around his throat, could feel the threat ready to choke the life from his fragile, mortal frame.

"Unspeakable from my throat. It was hexed, I cannot speak it, and I'm very sure that nobody else knows it." He shrugged slightly, a sad smile touching his lips. "I felt the last worshipper I had die. She was the last one to know my name." He felt another sob choke up through his chest as he buried his face in his own hands. "Her name was Catherine, and she loved marigolds. Every time she cut them, she would add a fresh one to her altar for me." He sniffed as he wiped the tears away again, giving a soft, wet laugh.

"So I made sure her plants were always perfectly watered. Especially when her hands and back got too bad for watering and weeding." He gave a watery smile at the memory, the warmth that flooded his chest every time she spoke his name, sang his old, ancient songs.