The Outside is so often full of shrines, altars, and temples, that Odin's own spectacle is something that feels almost familiar when Roshni happens upon it. There is no feeling of homesickness, but to see similarities, even here, is something she's grateful for. Of course, she steps right into the space, and pauses. Blinks. Then tilts her head to the side almost as if in realization, before she raises her hands in a placating matter. I'll be right back. Roshni turns on her heel and darts towards the hotel once more.

Ten minutes later, she's returned, this time with something in a bundle, wrapped in what looks like one of the hotel restaurant cloth napkins. She asked the staff, of course, if she could use some food for an offering, and they agreed. So here she is, to pay her proper respects, even if she doesn't know Odin or his mythos.

"Aye, I'm not going to ask why I'm here, you have your reasons. I don't question gods most days, even if there's many back home." If Xamã were here, she'd have a keener sense of where this god may actually be, but Roshni finds she has no care as she places the fruit and the glass of milk on the altar as her offering.

"I'm not sure this is exactly what you're looking for, but I hope it's enough. Go raibh míle maith agat s'what they say in the tribe." A way of a banshee thanking something, sending her blessing, especially to something far greater than what she is.