Oh, you say you have to fall apart to really be someone
Looking up only briefly when Hadama spoke up, Maea only nodded before returning to what she had been doing. Dark splotches of cement was drying on her cheek and chin, on her hands and on the apron that kept her dress from the messy work.
She had found her focus, and the job was progressing well. As someone fetched a ladder, Maea stretched out her back and took a breather, then resumed the final push. It felt good, being able to make something. For years and years she had been convinced that all she was capable of was destroying things, messing up, tearing down - a belief reinforced by her turning into an Ancient with Dygra for a goddess. But here, now? This was building. Repairing. Making, rather than unmaking.
Maea keeps working on the fountain.
She had found her focus, and the job was progressing well. As someone fetched a ladder, Maea stretched out her back and took a breather, then resumed the final push. It felt good, being able to make something. For years and years she had been convinced that all she was capable of was destroying things, messing up, tearing down - a belief reinforced by her turning into an Ancient with Dygra for a goddess. But here, now? This was building. Repairing. Making, rather than unmaking.
Maea keeps working on the fountain.
