Amalia
she wants the silence but fears the solitude
she wants to be alone and together with you
Amalia's expression steadily falters as she listens to Jigano's admonishments, whatever smile had lingered on her list thoroughly gone by the end. Wrapping her arms around herself, the Shield looks down to a spot on his chest, unable to meet the piercing blue eyes. She hadn't meant to disappear - not the second time, with the book - but she should have known that it might happen, should have been smarter, safer.
People can die, Ama.
Dark eyes glance briefly at the Bard with an expression that speaks of guilt and wounds. Is he right? Had her actions been so risky that the others might not have survived? Thick white fur has sprouted over her neck, a sure sign of her insecurity, her failing mood. She hadn't known the danger to be so great, had thought they would be okay. "I... I thought you could hold your own," she whispers weakly, a small protest with no spine behind it. I thought you thought that I could, too. It aches, to know he has so little faith in her, and the hands that wrap around her arms clench tight enough to leave red marks on her skin.
People can die, Ama.
Dark eyes glance briefly at the Bard with an expression that speaks of guilt and wounds. Is he right? Had her actions been so risky that the others might not have survived? Thick white fur has sprouted over her neck, a sure sign of her insecurity, her failing mood. She hadn't known the danger to be so great, had thought they would be okay. "I... I thought you could hold your own," she whispers weakly, a small protest with no spine behind it. I thought you thought that I could, too. It aches, to know he has so little faith in her, and the hands that wrap around her arms clench tight enough to leave red marks on her skin.
she ran to the lighthouse, hoped that it would help her see
she saw that the lighthouse had been washed out to sea
