Amalia
she was afraid of heights
"I would like your help. What story should we tell?" Planning a puppet show with a faceless god - not the way she expected to spend her evening, but there are far worse things she could be doing. As though the world were still a place where things were normal, with festivals and merriment and lighthearted tales. Amalia isn't even sure the she will be free when the festival comes along, let alone that Zariah will allow it, that they will not be pressed away and shuttered and blinded and forced to prepare for an unknown war.
The change in Ludo's tone does not go unnoticed, and Amalia lift an eyebrow at the deity, concern laced on her face. "Cat Sith?" the baker repeats, not having heard of such a creature. "How does it get in the way?"
She wishes she could say it surprised her, that Ludo could not help with the blight. Disappointed, sure - not because of the god's admission, no, she could never be disappointed by those she reveres. Moreso with herself, her people, the mistakes that clearly led them here, into disasters grater than she could have dreamt, the death and rot of an innocent wood. "Do you know who can?"
The change in Ludo's tone does not go unnoticed, and Amalia lift an eyebrow at the deity, concern laced on her face. "Cat Sith?" the baker repeats, not having heard of such a creature. "How does it get in the way?"
She wishes she could say it surprised her, that Ludo could not help with the blight. Disappointed, sure - not because of the god's admission, no, she could never be disappointed by those she reveres. Moreso with herself, her people, the mistakes that clearly led them here, into disasters grater than she could have dreamt, the death and rot of an innocent wood. "Do you know who can?"
but she was much more afraid
of never flying
