"Perhaps Frith is whoever he wants to be to whomever he feels it best?" Mused Soapwort.
Thistle wasn't sure what he meant with that remark, but he was too distracted to really dwell on it much.
Walnut was the one who asked. "Whatever do you mean?"
"Well, perhaps, to us, Frith appears as, well, Lord Frith. But the Basil and his kind, he appears as Haila." Answered Soapwort.
"Oh." Said Walnut, as if he really didn't understand what Soapwort meant.
Thistle hopped forward, and looked out of the brush. It was clear. The field went on for a little ways, then dipped as if there was a hill. There was trees below.
Thistle went back into the brush, and said "There's a hill, and a wood up ahead. We'll have to head down the hill and through the woods to keep going. Let's get moving."
He left the brush, Walnut and Soapwort being the first to follow.