AMALIA
you're staring at the sky
watching stars collide
Amalia has felt better.watching stars collide
Her keg is healing nicely, but the twinges of pain still linger there, taunting her when she walks too long. It is hard for a baker to be off her feet, harder still when she has no help; so she grits her teeth and power through, long fingers mixing together the ingredients for a batch of pumpkin bread.
The Shield does not glance up, at first, as the slight young woman walks into her shop. Her response is intinct: "Welcome to Devas." she calls from the back, her alto voice easily projecting throgh the small space. "I'll be with you in a minute."
It takes her thirty seconds to finish shaping the loaves, and another thirty to set them out to proof. It's good work, muscle memory, soothing in hard times, and Amalia relishes every moment, working with Swift and skillful hands. Hands which she is wiping on her apron as she rounds the corner at last, coming to an abrupt stop as she finally recognizes her guest.
"Ashetta." A pause: what is one supposed to say to a woman who threatened to kill your best friend, who you subsequently pulled out of a desert Storm? "How have you been?"
