He didn't do much in the way of fancy cooking? Faith shrugged and spoke, as she always did, honestly. "I hope that my food does the same, in honesty. It's a means of providing for people, I suppose it's rather an ingrained habit." But if it was something she had learned to a reasonable level, the earnest young woman said, then it seemed to be able to to be used to help people and that was what was important to her. The thought of charging someone to eat something he'd cooked was probably an anathema to him, Faith realised and she smiled to herself. Both of them were devout, just to different Immortals was all.
But if someone was resurrected, were they changed? Faith shook her head. "The soul doesn't leave the body immediately," she said, with a slight raise of her shoulders. "Once it does, then it would be impossible to resurrect, for me. I'm sure Vri or Famula could if they chose to. But the person who dies experiences being unconscious." So it had happened on the one person she'd used it on, anyhow, she explained. Then, with a slight smile she added what was obviously a very genuine, and very important truth to her. "It's a grave responsibility," pardon the pun, she thought to herself. "And isn't something that I would do lightly. But sometimes, it's the wrong time. If it wasn't Famula would allow it, I'm sure." Every trial, Faith made decisions about life and death, yet she gave him a chipper and rather cheeky grin. "Or so I tell myself to help me sleep better." Which was ironic really, considering how little she slept at all.
They worked together a while then, her singing and him tuning his gittern. It was good to get in the practice, use her lungs in that way. He thanked her and she waved it away, dismissively. "It's my pleasure. Thank you for letting me rummage through your spices and other supplies." However, it was time she made her way home, if she was going to get back before anyone worried. She refused his offer to walk her back, should he make it, assuring him that her gold cloak kept her safe. "Well, it remains open," she said, when he spoke about her offer of work and with a grin, Faith made her way back home.
But if someone was resurrected, were they changed? Faith shook her head. "The soul doesn't leave the body immediately," she said, with a slight raise of her shoulders. "Once it does, then it would be impossible to resurrect, for me. I'm sure Vri or Famula could if they chose to. But the person who dies experiences being unconscious." So it had happened on the one person she'd used it on, anyhow, she explained. Then, with a slight smile she added what was obviously a very genuine, and very important truth to her. "It's a grave responsibility," pardon the pun, she thought to herself. "And isn't something that I would do lightly. But sometimes, it's the wrong time. If it wasn't Famula would allow it, I'm sure." Every trial, Faith made decisions about life and death, yet she gave him a chipper and rather cheeky grin. "Or so I tell myself to help me sleep better." Which was ironic really, considering how little she slept at all.
They worked together a while then, her singing and him tuning his gittern. It was good to get in the practice, use her lungs in that way. He thanked her and she waved it away, dismissively. "It's my pleasure. Thank you for letting me rummage through your spices and other supplies." However, it was time she made her way home, if she was going to get back before anyone worried. She refused his offer to walk her back, should he make it, assuring him that her gold cloak kept her safe. "Well, it remains open," she said, when he spoke about her offer of work and with a grin, Faith made her way back home.
