[SE] Silver Bells and Cockleshells

Amalia knows that Isuma loves her, but to feel it? Simmering between them like strains of gold, the same way she feels Jyoti's mind, the way she can sense through the Attuned bond? How new. How wonderful. How beautiful it is. Pressing her face to the griffin's soft fur, she exhales softly, finding solace in the safety of the little hybrid's touch. But there is work to do, bridges to mend; she cannot hide from it all forever. Nodding silently as Jigano agrees, Amalia reaches into her pack to extract the lilac seeds, not quite meeting the Sage's blue eyes as something twists and then releases inside the Shield's chest. She does not trust anything she might say: it is her words that hurt them last time, drove the wedge between their souls and cast the pair asunder. Never one for eloquence, she had failed to explain her anxious heart- what good would it do to speak of it now, to sully their hope of redemption with empty talk? So Amalia works in silence, closing her eyes and letting her body slowly shift, cloven hooves taking the place of padded toes, a long tail sweeping out across the young spring grass. The qilin is where she feels strongest, safest, wisest- in short, most like herself. Delicately she strides closer to the memorial garden, stepping on steam to keep from damaging any emerging blooms before finding a corner to dig. The warmth of her flames soften the earth; the cloven hooves work well to cast linear furrows, deep enough to leave seeds within. Will they grow from this teamwork, too, rising into the new year brilliant and strong? Or was the winter too cold, the night too cruel? Are they destined to wither and die? 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