why else love if not to feel the stars exploding in our veins?
So she's been noticed noticing, which is to be expected, Amalia supposes. She's never been particularly skilled at subtlety, and it isn't as though she's trying. Sharp dark eyes track her progress through the busy square, watching as the small winged woman flits ever closer to the bench. Nervousness already beats its wings against her chest; she takes another deep breath in, trying to calm down. In two three four, out two three four...
"Hi," Amalia says in reply, shifting her feet to the ground. "Um, sure... sorry. We don't see a lot of fae in the Grounds." Rising up onto her feet, the girl looks down at the smaller woman with a frank curiosity. "Couldn't you have found a tanner or butcher in the Greatwood?" she asks, no malice in her alto tone, only the amusement of a lifted brow.
"Hi," Amalia says in reply, shifting her feet to the ground. "Um, sure... sorry. We don't see a lot of fae in the Grounds." Rising up onto her feet, the girl looks down at the smaller woman with a frank curiosity. "Couldn't you have found a tanner or butcher in the Greatwood?" she asks, no malice in her alto tone, only the amusement of a lifted brow.
Amalia
