Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
"Sounds like a very organic way to find what you're good at," Maea reflected. "I do wish I'd had something similar... Unfortunately my choices have often been driven by need." Gathering up crumbs with a fibger, she deposited them on the empty plate. "My family were farmers, like I said earlier. After they passed away, I tried to keep it going on my own, but it's very rough work with several pairs of hands. Only one set wasn't enough." It had been a difficult time; between processing grief, the turmoil of outlanders pouring in and old order being upturned, she had tried to make it by on her own only to find it impossible.Getting tired of my own words
"When it didn't work anymore I joined the Loreseeker Guild instead. This was before the barrier around the Grounds fell; so much information had been lost over the centuries that no one really knew what lay outside anymore. The Heralds were beginning to influence events again, The Voice gathered followers ‐ and the Guildmaster was very kind to me, even though I wasn't strong or even very good at reading." Expression softening with remembered affection, her smile was wistful. "I guess I've tried to recreate what he had built. It never quite work though; now that the world is open to us, there's no real need for loreseekers anymore."
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
