The building was bustling with the evening rush.
Some burly men ordered drinks, others playfully chatted with the waitress, while some headed upstairs for nightly company.
Beautiful woman and rowdy men gathered at this one place- the Oak house.
'So were we.'
The writer was sitting on one of the large round tables in the corner. Luckily, he was able to find a seat, otherwise he would be standing near the counter with those loud-mouth soldiers.
As he waited impatiently for his food, his eyes accidentally met the deity's, who was now out of his heavenly robes and wore a simple white shirt and pants.
The deity threw him a dirty look and the writer instantly turned his gaze away.
'This guy is still hung up on that.'
Fifteen minutes earlier.
The two of them were standing on a cliff, from which the whole Silver wolf could be seen.
Even the famous Oak house was visible as a white and brown building.
The writer felt relieved.
He would finally be able to eat something, that too, at the Oak house!
Yes, the Oak house also served dinner.
Actually, it was filled with delicacies like none other.
But he was never allowed to go there.
Even when his father wasn't with him, his sworn sister- Lux, for whom he was looking for, won't let him get inside.
They would only meet outside the building and she would occasionally snuck in some cookies or desserts.
Alas, there was a limit to those and he really wanted to try all their food.
Now, would be the perfect time for that!
With a guest as an excuse, he could easily get an entry.
'...guest...'
As the writer reapeated his thoughts, his eyes followed to look at the deity, who, wearing long sleeved light blue outer robes, the same colour as the sky.
The deity had a youthful face with soft features, his skin the colour of a wheat grain and his complexion looked very healthy.
He had almond-shaped, sharp hazel eyes. His built was slender but his cheeks were chubby and his round face gave him a cute vibe.
His lips were thin and he had a small mouth, his hair were long till his waist and he was short. But he was, clearly a guy.
Despite his soft looks, the way he carried himself screamed authority.
'Even the way he walks is noticeably different.'
It was like the deity had monopoly over the term "out of place".
After thinking for a short while, the writer decided to ask the Deity, to atleast change out of his robes.
It was nothing major.
But, just that, they were going to a place frequented by soldiers and the robe the deity was wearing, was similar to the one's those from east wear.
And the Eastern continent and their Southern continent, named- Alfred, were currently in a war.
"Excuse me." He managed to speak.
"What?!", the deity glared back.
" I think, no, I am sure of it, you should change your clothes. That would draw too much attention."
The writer said, his voice mixed with hesitance and surety.
What a contrary combination..
Seeing the writer's stern expression, the deity sighed.
The next moment he snapped his fingers.
Now, he in a simple white shirt and brown pants, similar to the Writer's.
" Also, what should I call you as in public?"
The writer asked a beat later.
" Respected, honourable, godly, Lakir."
Writer: "...."
" Ahem, Sir Lakir is fine."
'Line?' The writer thought a second late.
'Must be a pseudonym. Well, being guarded is never bad. But unfortunately, I can't afford to be guarded.'
Having his own train of thoughts and after reaching it's conclusion by his ownself, as he followed Lakir down the cliff, the writer decided to give off his real name.
"You can call me Tsisana. Or Cece for short."
He said as they walked, the deity never replied back.
.
Though the deity listened to him, he was still grumbling.
.