Competition. Tav wondered when it had begun to feel like that -- like you were constantly butting heads with the very Goddess of Magic herself, tugging and pulling at a rope that dared not budge.

You didn't want to blame Gale: he was the victim of this after all, made into something pliable by the Goddess Mystra. But a simple fact began to rear its ugly head the longer you tried to stamp down the foolish curl of jealousy in your chest: while Gale might be faithful, he was not yet over Mystra. And that, more than anything, made you feel inadequate.

He stands next to you now, sorting his things as you prepare to settle into camp for the night. He's talking about something that you don't quite hear, having stopped listening when he had mentioned her moments earlier.

"Why do you insist on bringing her up so frequently?"

He raises a brow, seemingly taken aback by the sudden question. "I- I'm afraid I don't know what you mean-"

"You know very well. Mystra -- I do not know why you insist on talking about her. It simply makes me question why you are with me when you are obviously still so infatuated with her."

His eyes narrow and he takes a number of steps forward until he is standing in front of you, dark eyes picking apart every emotion on your face. "If you have something to say, say it plainly."