Harold
*We... Gods.* The Unyielding had to mull the small one's words over in her head for a moment before she put them all the way together. **"You are a god, like the ones who made me. A daughter of the World Tree, and a maker of life."** The tall being tilted her head to regard the plants now spreading behind Bea's feet, and though her expression did not change, the child would be able to sense a certain appreciation from the solemn demigod. Certainly, her words seemed to have a little more strength to them when they next echoed out.

**"I am made of many gods. Torn and bloodied gods, flesh ripped out and stitched together into me."** She remembered their last moments before they died. Pain and suffering, a sense of rage and hopelessness against an enemy that should not have been. A part of her wanted to speak of it, to let out the hurt in the hopes that this small god would understand. But nobody else deserved to feel such things, or even be forced to know of them. **"I fell down here afterwards. It was not by design, I... I need to go somewhere."** But where? She didn't know enough of the world to be certain of anything, least of all her own true destination.

*Ah, well.* This stimulus was interesting, and her mind felt more active now that it ever had in those long months of wondering. Her dark and hollow eyes remained fixed on the small one, and after another long silence she answered with a small nod. **"If it is good, then I will accept your gift. You are kind, small one."**
Bruce
**"That is... Disturbing,"** Bea said. She couldn't see why anyone would want to make a demigod out of the flesh of deities. It was alarming that one would even consider doing such a thing, and even more so that they'd gone through with it. None of this was the fault of the Unyielding, of course. So far, Bea found her quite pleasant.

She took a moment to think on the demigod's unknown destination. **"Well, where do you wanna go?"** She snapped her fingers and in front of the Unyeilding's face appeared images of the World Tree and its many realms. **"I haven't actually visited a lot of these places, but I'm sure they're lovely. One of them has to catch your eye, right?"**

While she let the Unyeilding look through the images, Bea reached into her cloak and pulled out a mason jar filled with transparent white jam. It glowed softly and Bea handed it to the Unyeilding along with a silver spoon. Her people had yet to invent toast, so for now, her jam was to be eaten on its own.

**Here,"** She said. **"It's made from the berries that grow in my realm. I don't have any other kinds, but this one is good so it makes up for it. I really should make other fruit, though..."** That last part was said more to herself than the Unyielding. A task for another time, she decided.
Harold
For a very, very long moment, The Unyielding stared silently at the ghostly images of the many mortal realms. She had quite a strange way of moving: slow and fluid when in motion but absolutely *Fixed* In place when she wasn't making any kind of gesture. She did not idle, nor fidget, nor even seem to breathe, and in that quiet interval it might almost appear that she'd ceased living entirely.

Then she reached out with one ghastly hand, and gently took the jam from Bea's hands. **"Thank you."** With great care she held it up before her empty eyes, and turned it this way and that, a patient examination from every possible angle. **"It is... Quite beautiful. And its light is warm."** The demigod turned, and politely bowed its head before the small goddess. **"I also... Think it is good, this—ah."**

In her hands, the jam jar cracked and popped, and its lid suddenly twisted to one side. Narrow stems burst out from underneath the rim and stretched themselves out into the air, already sprouting tiny leaves. Unlike the vines growing in the Unyielding's footsteps, however, Bea would instantly recognize these plants: they were precisely the same ones that the berries in her realm had first been picked from to make the jam.

Just from being in the Unyielding's hands, the mulched organic matter in the jar was *Returning to a living state.*

**"Ah...!"** Even without the benefit of a visible expression, she sounded both surprised and excited. In fact, as the shoots swelled and thickened and began to sprout beautiful clusters of berries in her hands, the Unyielding hugged the remains of the jar tight against her chest, like it was a precious child or a small furry animal.

**"I love it,"** She pronounced. After all, what better gift could there be than life itself?
Bruce
Bea watched the Unyeilding closely as she tried in vain to read the creature's body language. Thinking the Unyeilding dead, she silently judged the demigod's creator- whoever they were- for their shoddy craftsmanship. Naturally, Bea was quite startled when she reached down to pluck the jam jar out of her hands.

**"Gah! I thought you *Died*,"** She chirped, dramatic as ever, yet she moved past the Unyeilding's not-death quickly. The sudden growth within the jar made her forget all about it.

She levitated a few inches off the ground so that she was eye-level with the jar's remnants and the sapling that winded around them. She leaned closer to get a better look, head tilted curiously. This Unyielding had taken her gift and reverted it back to an unprocessed state. It'd been the last thing she'd expected, but Bea was delighted that the Unyeilding had taken on a lighter mood.

**"That's... New,"** She said as she returned to the ground. **"I'm glad that you like it! But I don't know where you'd plant it..."**

She glanced at the ground, then shook her head. A tree on a tree would be redundant, and she did not like the idea of one of her creations taking root directly on Yggdrasil. The ferns she'd summoned were negligible and would die out in a day or two. The tree, however, was far more hearty.

She reached into her cloak again and pulled out a large clay pot filled with soil. She placed it on the ground and gestured to it with jazz hands.

**"Ta-da! It's not very fancy, but now your tree won't die from malnutrition."**