Moss listened to her question with a slow bob of his head, and then responded back, slowly and surely as ever. The tortle seemed to love filling in the many tiny details that other speakers might have prefered to leave on the table, and while this showed a great insight on his part, it did not speak strongly for his tact.<br/><br/>"I wouldn't say druids, no. They were an odd bunch, that is sure. One was a small monkey person. They had short trimmed fur, and like a spellbook I think. It might have been a girl, but I don't know, seeing as they wore clothes and all. Mammals all sort of look alike with clothes on. I don't know if you know that, but they do. The second was like, I think, some sort of dragonborn. She liked playing music and telling terrible jokes. I think she might have been like a bard or something. She seems friendly enough though, a bit stuck up, like dragonborn can be. They think they're cool because they have draconic ancestors I think. Its a weird thing to be proud of, that one of your grandparents had sex with a dragon. Sounds painful to me. The last was like a minotaur. He was tall, and broad at the shoulders, handsome fellow, but not very bright. Kept insisting that he was a rogue, but mostly he seemed to smash thing. He was good at that. There might have been a human too, he was carrying the bags I think. Seemed to have a bit of a drinking problem."<br/><br/>He paused then, taking a moment to finish his porridge, and then setting the bowl aside as her began to rub his taloned hands against once another, casting Druidcraft as he began to grow and weave together long strands of grass. He did this with a quick efficient manner, his talons seeming surprisingly nimble as pulling the fibers together in slow intricate patterns. He also responded to her broader question, explaining his own views on the matter.<br/><br/>"As to druids in general, I've never looked at myself as any different than any other worshiper. The methods I use may differ from say a light cleric, but my belief is as strong. I wouldn't say that worshiping a deity is harder either, as they all have something they represent. A priestess of Allora is interested in giving homage to the sun. I as a druid give thanks in many places, but I also have a special affection towards the dead. Death is the natural midpoint of the cycle, and I hold it in great esteem. It is why I bear fungus on my person, it is a way of giving myself over to the process. Many mortals think that death comes in one sudden gulp, but the truth of it is that we die and reborn with every day, every waking moment. Life and death flow against one another like the currents of the tide."<br/><br/>Setting aside his now finished bowl, the tortle reached among his various relics and baubles, drawing out a simple wooden carving tied with coarse twine to his throat. It was a simple circle, carved from wood, and covered with a fine layer of softly growing green lichen. He held it gently as he ran a talon along the inside of the loop, lightly rubbing the moss as if petting a beloved friend.<br/><br/>"When I die, I shall be consumed by the fungi and moss that cover me, and be a habitat for them. It is my way of giving back."<br/><br/>There was nothing sad of morbid about his words, though others might have taken it as such. For Moss, this was simply the way of the world, a belief that comforted rather than repelled him. He loved that he was part of the natural order, and took it's measure in stride. Instead, he reached down to the table, took his newly crafted bowl, and handed it to her with what passed for a tortle smile.<br/><br/>"So tell me strange travelling human, what is your profession? You wear a light artificial shell, and but don't seem to carry much in the way of weapons. I might think you a brigand, but my heart tells me otherwise. A warlock perhaps? I have had fun conversations with their like before. Very interesting how they sell their souls for magical powers. Seems awfully short sighted..."