Amalia;
Amalia arrives rather late, having fluctuated and wavered as to whether or not she would go. Sleekly feline in the falling night, she reaches the base of the shattered spire just as the others begin to walk within. Coming to a halt, Amalia swallows, uneasy in this looming place. She has spent her life in the shadow of the Spire; it remains unsettling, a place of discord, and part of her fears that at any moment the world will fall apart again. Frey's displeasure rings in her ears, backlit by pitchforks and fire, shouts and blood. This is a place of death and despair, not music, not magic, not life.
But Jyoti feels none of her trepidation, and Amalia takes heart from the young whale's innocence, leaning into the curiosity and steeling herself for the ascent. Swallowing hard, the leopardess approaches, surrounded in the starlit wake of her calf. At least the gathered are familiar, all creatures she knows and has ventured with before. Remi has already entered the building, with Caiside close behind. Sorry I'm late, the leopard calls mentally, nodding fondly at Ianto before gazing black-eyed into the dark. With a final shudder Amalia begins to ascend the stairs, her great paws pressing against cold stone, a starlit skywhale lighting their way.
But Jyoti feels none of her trepidation, and Amalia takes heart from the young whale's innocence, leaning into the curiosity and steeling herself for the ascent. Swallowing hard, the leopardess approaches, surrounded in the starlit wake of her calf. At least the gathered are familiar, all creatures she knows and has ventured with before. Remi has already entered the building, with Caiside close behind. Sorry I'm late, the leopard calls mentally, nodding fondly at Ianto before gazing black-eyed into the dark. With a final shudder Amalia begins to ascend the stairs, her great paws pressing against cold stone, a starlit skywhale lighting their way.
dry your smoke-stung eyes
you can see the light
you can see the light
