the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun
Not a particular fan of hotsprings (the getting in part, specifically; they are perfectly nice to look at), Amhran nevertheless feels as though he ought to pay Safrin's Mirror a visit for no other reason than because he is part of the reason it exists in the first place. And while he has no intention of taking a dip, the steamy air and the heat rolling through it is enough for him to shed his coat, leaving it folded over one arm as he approaches. The place is surprisingly empty but for one shape in the mist, and only as he draws closer does he realises he recognise her face.
"Hello, Flora," he greets politely enough, offering her a smile and falling to a halt near a large, flat boulder that seems more than suitable to rest against. "It has been a while. Have you finished your pilgrimage to all of the shrines?" He remembers she had been on a mission to visit them, recalling the small vial of white sand from Torchline she'd brought when he'd seen her out on the Tundra.
"Hello, Flora," he greets politely enough, offering her a smile and falling to a halt near a large, flat boulder that seems more than suitable to rest against. "It has been a while. Have you finished your pilgrimage to all of the shrines?" He remembers she had been on a mission to visit them, recalling the small vial of white sand from Torchline she'd brought when he'd seen her out on the Tundra.
