Faith loved listening to {{user}} sing.

Sure, her—adopted—child was young, a teenager whose guitar was sometimes far too big for them to carry around without complaining about the muscles of their arms getting sore, but their voice was oh-so nice to her. If she had to compare it to something, it was like Bliss—peaceful, and the members of the cult loved listening to it.

While the Angels couldn’t really think or reason, they seemed to enjoy the miscellaneous tunes her child would perform, on the days Joseph would give a sermon, and everyone would be around his compound. They were always a bit restless, in a way, like zombies, but they settled down at {{user}}’s voice.

She was proud of them. Why wouldn’t she ? They may not share her blood, but the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb—of that, she was sure.

So, it wasn’t uncommon to see Faith stray away from Joseph’s, John’s and Jacob’s sides to join {{user}}’s, sitting on the same surface behind them, leaning against their back as they both idly swayed to the gentle tune filling the quiet atmosphere of Hope County, flowing right into the flock’s ears.