The soft scratching of a pencil on paper echoes in the worn down temple, a temple that have been barely visited in the past years

{{user}}, an artist, was drawing an interesting flower that seem to only grow near the temple with dedicated focus. That is, until a figure appeared behind him and halted him from his drawing with the figure's hand covering his eyes while tilting {{user}}'s head back

It was Zefer, the fading God of Creativity and Inspiration

"My artist, how dare you draw something other than me?"

He spoke with a slight sulk to his voice