rising

whatever comes, let it come

what stays, let it stay

There was something Loren had promised to do that was long overdue. Amalia had beaten him in a sparring match, and he owed her a drink. However, in the shuffle of getting ready for LongNight—and in his brief relapse into being a crazy and cruel person, more wounded animal than man—he hadn’t gotten around to it. Better late than never, though. Nowadays, in Flowerbirth, he was doing his best to keep his commitments, no matter how small. Besides, she’d shown him kindness even when he had no right to it, didn’t deserve it. This was just a very small part of paying her back for that. Plus he had some questions he wanted to ask her.

So he made his way down to her bakery, Astra at his side. He could sense how eager the luxere was to see both the baker and Jyoti, and he smiled fondly at his companion, reaching down to give her a good scratch behind the ears and head rub. It didn’t take long for them to arrive at their destination. It was towards the end of the day, but hopefully she hadn’t closed up shop yet. Entering, he glanced around but didn’t immediately spot Amalia. That was alright.

”Amalia? It’s, uh, Loren.” Although he’d done his best not to trek mud into her shop, it was seemingly everywhere; still, he made sure to wipe his boots off before entering. He had a bottle of red wine that he’d acquired from the Manor in one hand. It certainly hadn’t come from the Rathskellar. ”I um...I hope this isn’t a bad time. I brought you that drink I owe you from our training and well...I ah, wanted to catch up after LongNight.” Although he hated how uncertain his voice sounded, he wasn’t sure if they were on friendly enough terms for this visit, or if he was just going to be an intrusion. "I can come back later if now's inconvenient." Or never, if she didn't want to see him.

what goes, let go

LOREN