It was bad enough that someone had put a lone table in the middle of his woods as a spot for people to leave offerings even though he didn't require them. But now that was gone.
In its place, someone had erected what could only be described as a small shrine.
On top of a newly constructed platform, a wooden frame with an upside down v-shaped roof formed a three-sided enclosure for a different, bigger table that rested within. A red silk rope stretched across the front of the enclosure, decorated with a series of colorful flags and even a few wind chimes.
Rowan sighed.
He remembered the days when no one could find his bridge at all, let alone have any desire to force a shrine on him like it was some kind of requirement to prove that they didn't hate him anymore.
Settle in for an extended fluff session. It’s long, but Wren quite literally needs it. There is some healing to work on.