She expects no response - why should she, when she made her disdain of the being so clear, time and time again? But the Shrine has other thoughts and ideas, and Amalia winces as the doors spring open, turning around with animalistic surprise. Tense and wound, she watches the orb begin to pulse, her hands clenching uneasily at her sides.
That the Voice would think either of them interested in becoming bright is almost enough to make her laugh. She is grateful for Ronin's quick response: left alone, the leopardess would not be so diplomatic. Tightening her jaw, the girl holds steadt, though the rumbling of the earth below her incites some new alarm. Vi, Safrin, protect us from fiends.
"Why are you here?" Amalia grinds out. Here, in her presence, in her library, in her world.
