Hadama followed Noe's eyes, looking back at the statues he had so recently visited, but like his young friend his gaze was pulled back to the graceful, delicate lines of Safrin's statue where it stood in attendance on the far grander tribute to Vi. The features were vague, the artist undoubtedly realizing that they could not capture divinity in mere stone, but still her beauty shone through. He could appreciate the artistry and skill that had gone into the work and he inclined his head in agreement with Noe's choice.
"She is both," he confirmed, his voice warming and a certain softness entering the deep rumble of his voice. "She is a mother. She loves deeply, and fiercely. And she defends what is hers." A small smile broke through his stoic mask, gentling the corners of his mouth. "But she is generous, too. Kind. Caring." He could have continued on with superlatives until his voice cracked, but that was not his way. "The one who carved that statue knew her well, I think."
"She is both," he confirmed, his voice warming and a certain softness entering the deep rumble of his voice. "She is a mother. She loves deeply, and fiercely. And she defends what is hers." A small smile broke through his stoic mask, gentling the corners of his mouth. "But she is generous, too. Kind. Caring." He could have continued on with superlatives until his voice cracked, but that was not his way. "The one who carved that statue knew her well, I think."
