AMALIA
It must be fate that Amalia was (conveniently) walking with her staff that night. However, in her eagerness to be a tough, tough leopardess, she left it back at the site of their initial scuffle. The blood - it reminds her that she’s left it behind (she wasn’t wearing her bracer, stupid, unprepared girl), and she can’t leave such a magically and emotionally precious item behind. Her life is entwined in those antlers, her friends are in the wood, her love smiles when she uses it. It cannot be abandoned to the savage likes of an utterly demonic Shia LaBoeuf.
They must go back. She’ll get it, and then she can heal Melita. And then they can get the fuck out of here.
But Amalia, too, can hear the rustling behind them. You don’t need an Attuned’s half-human, half-animal ears in order to hear that kind of thing.
“Stay here,” she whispers to Melita, “the cottage is too far. I’ll compel a couple of wolves to protect you while I go get my staff.” She grabs Melita’s bloody hand and squeezes it tightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right back”
Amalia takes a moment to stare off into the dark, calling to the fierce, pack-like creatures who must haunt this area. The Shield is true to her legend title and will not leave for the staff until she’s sure Melita is protected.
They must go back. She’ll get it, and then she can heal Melita. And then they can get the fuck out of here.
But Amalia, too, can hear the rustling behind them. You don’t need an Attuned’s half-human, half-animal ears in order to hear that kind of thing.
“Stay here,” she whispers to Melita, “the cottage is too far. I’ll compel a couple of wolves to protect you while I go get my staff.” She grabs Melita’s bloody hand and squeezes it tightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right back”
Amalia takes a moment to stare off into the dark, calling to the fierce, pack-like creatures who must haunt this area. The Shield is true to her legend title and will not leave for the staff until she’s sure Melita is protected.
