Amalia
the shield of safrin
some birds sing when the sun shines bright
They seem to fall into quiet familiarity with a startling ease, bygones drifting in the background but better left untouched. For once Amalia does not want to question Sunjata, to blame or needle; it seems unnecessary, and the harsh pain of her encounter with Deimos still stings like a burn upon her heart. "Hi," she replies softly with a crooked smile, leaving it there and returning to the task at hand(s).
The suggestion of the massive dragon to provide bonus material has Amalia laughing despite herself, a low, bemused chuckle curling out of her lungs. "Are you making a lantern appropriate for your size?" the Shield wonders, arching a brow and looking over at his work. Her gaze continues over the dragon, brazenly curious as she cranes her neck to get more of a view. "This is new. What, uh... what's it like? Being a dragon?"
The suggestion of the massive dragon to provide bonus material has Amalia laughing despite herself, a low, bemused chuckle curling out of her lungs. "Are you making a lantern appropriate for your size?" the Shield wonders, arching a brow and looking over at his work. Her gaze continues over the dragon, brazenly curious as she cranes her neck to get more of a view. "This is new. What, uh... what's it like? Being a dragon?"
our praise is not for them,
but the ones who sing in the dead of night
but the ones who sing in the dead of night
