the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun
"I suppose everyone is different," Amhran says, the first hints of what will one day be quite dry humour in his tone, a small smile on his face as he works. Glancing up to see the shape of Deimos's creation in full, his smile brightens. "Ah, it's Micah," he says, sitting back for a break. (It's a difficult posture, being lanky and having to hunker over parchment with a paintbrush, you know).
"I have been able to try quite a few different cakes this year," he says; his jaunts around Snowcloak and into cafes have been one thing, but he'd made a point of trying something in the other regions they'd visited, wherever possible. "There was a pineapple upside down cake in Torchline that was good. But I think I would like an ice cream cake." Obviously. He's Halovian.
"I have been able to try quite a few different cakes this year," he says; his jaunts around Snowcloak and into cafes have been one thing, but he'd made a point of trying something in the other regions they'd visited, wherever possible. "There was a pineapple upside down cake in Torchline that was good. But I think I would like an ice cream cake." Obviously. He's Halovian.
