[say]"Zariah isn't queen anymore. We're allowed in the woods."[/say] Amalia tilts her head, a frown between her eyebrows. How has he not heard this news? It is all anyone has spoken about, a buzz of information, the swiftly shifting leadership like quicksand beneath their feet.
For a moment she contemplates leaving. Still edgy and defensive, the man is making her set her teeth, anxiety rising in insecure spikes as she wonders what nefarious purpose he might have. If his task is from Zariah she does not doubt it is wrong, and it is this fear which keeps her rooted, determined despite her own insecurity not to let him wound the woods. That she is no worse than the queen eases her a little; Amalia cannot help the ghost of a grin, snorting a little at that high praise.
But it is only when he confesses a little of his purpose that the baker's countenance shifts, guarded face growing open and curious, her dark eyes bright with visible interest. [say]"What protection? Which god? How do you plan to get down there?"[/say] This, at least, is something Amalia can get behind- unless, of course, it is for The Voice.
For a moment she contemplates leaving. Still edgy and defensive, the man is making her set her teeth, anxiety rising in insecure spikes as she wonders what nefarious purpose he might have. If his task is from Zariah she does not doubt it is wrong, and it is this fear which keeps her rooted, determined despite her own insecurity not to let him wound the woods. That she is no worse than the queen eases her a little; Amalia cannot help the ghost of a grin, snorting a little at that high praise.
But it is only when he confesses a little of his purpose that the baker's countenance shifts, guarded face growing open and curious, her dark eyes bright with visible interest. [say]"What protection? Which god? How do you plan to get down there?"[/say] This, at least, is something Amalia can get behind- unless, of course, it is for The Voice.
