Amalia
the shield of safrin
Yeah, okay, whatever newfound brazenness she's gained is thoroughly squashed by awkwardness as Loren explains what it is he needs. A flush as bright and hot as the fire spreads over her cheeks, crimson and warm as she immediately wishes she could turn back time to well before this conversation began.
Choking a little, Amalia's first response is to sputter and balk, staring down at her bowl and carefully avoiding Loren's eyes. When she finally collects herself it is to stutter, trying to find her voice and failing rather spectacularly. "I... um.... I see?" she murmurs, wondering if she might sink into the ground. "Is uh... what... how much, uh, detail would you need?"
Choking a little, Amalia's first response is to sputter and balk, staring down at her bowl and carefully avoiding Loren's eyes. When she finally collects herself it is to stutter, trying to find her voice and failing rather spectacularly. "I... um.... I see?" she murmurs, wondering if she might sink into the ground. "Is uh... what... how much, uh, detail would you need?"
she's just like the weather
can't hold her together
can't hold her together
