[open] she sells sea shells

Laughter was... good, they had thought, but the sound that comes out of Arialla is very much not  good. Osozo's face doesn't move, locked in a kind of insipid smile, an attempt at that earlier soothing, but the colour in their hair has bled into a deep grey. They let their hand drop away from her as she steps back, head cocking. "No, I... I don't think I do understand." Making a mark didn't mean being a hero to them. It meant simply living, and this was their first foray into it, their first attempt. "I... suppose I would mourn the work lost." They offer after a moment's thought, nodding gently. "But it would not stop me from beginning again. I... suppose you are still in the mourning, then?" osozo Electrifying mine chambers wholly scorching out thine sovereignty