[SE] Silver Bells and Cockleshells

She cannot know this new guilt of Jigano's, of course, knowing nothing of his visit to Safrin, but as Isuma lands upon her shoulder Amalia feels the remorse and shame as surely as she feels the beat of her own heart. Why? Slender fingers reach up instinctually, pressing into the place where feather and fur join, pulling the little griffin off her shoulder and into her arms. She lets her dark eyes flutter closed a moment, pressing a cheek to the small chimera in a distinctly feline gesture. I don't know how to fix this, the girl confesses silently to Isuma. It is easier, sometimes, to speak to those who cannot hear. She does not know how to fix what has broken between them, or if it can be fixed, but perhaps, Amalia thinks as she looks upon the fallen bard, it matters less what pieces are missing than what grows in their place. The baker has lost enough of her loved ones to fractured hearts and unresolved arguments. She has held on to pride so bright it burnt her, clenched pain between her bleeding palms. No more- And so the girl steps forward, swallowing the trembling, tumultuous anxiety, the childish part of her that stubbornly wishes he had not put her in this position again. Always bigger, always forgiving, always the one to cross the divide. "Do... Do you need help planting? I have some extra lilac seeds.." a m a l i a You were young and you'd stare With a reverence unimpaired Searching in your dark eyes to find the stars already there