Maea
And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die
It heals them when you die
Perhaps she had gone a bit too far. This was stretching her promise to stay close to the Grounds beyond plausible excuse, and Maea felt guilty. Not much, but a little. She had to get out, had to move away from the bleak backwater she had once known as home, lest she drown in memories of times that hadn't been better, but certainly more fulfilled.
It was too bad that she had managed to get herself lost. A poor place for it, the Climb - she was not familiar enough with the various nooks and crannies and their secrets to simply teleport out. So she wandered the treacherous magma tunnels with careful steps, one hand to the wall, and tried her best not to imagine what she would do if the lava suddenly decided to return.
She didn't expect to see a familiar face, here of all places. And when she did, it made her pause, very much hesitant to approach. The woman looked extremely busy with very private matters that involved... bone?
"Wessex?" Her voice carried over the distance, tentative and slightly concerned. "Are... you alright?"
They had never been close. To Maea, the woman had always been the opposite to herself. Strong, confident and proactive - someone to admire from a distance, because standing too close began to demand things from herself that she didn't know if she even possessed. Amalia had not been so easily intimidated, if she recalled correctly.
It was too bad that she had managed to get herself lost. A poor place for it, the Climb - she was not familiar enough with the various nooks and crannies and their secrets to simply teleport out. So she wandered the treacherous magma tunnels with careful steps, one hand to the wall, and tried her best not to imagine what she would do if the lava suddenly decided to return.
She didn't expect to see a familiar face, here of all places. And when she did, it made her pause, very much hesitant to approach. The woman looked extremely busy with very private matters that involved... bone?
"Wessex?" Her voice carried over the distance, tentative and slightly concerned. "Are... you alright?"
They had never been close. To Maea, the woman had always been the opposite to herself. Strong, confident and proactive - someone to admire from a distance, because standing too close began to demand things from herself that she didn't know if she even possessed. Amalia had not been so easily intimidated, if she recalled correctly.
And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh
A whisper within a sigh
