Amalia
"There's no guarantee they'll come," she reminds him once again, glancing about as they enter the temple, her dark eyes sliding from shrine to shrine. But the girl's anxiety is clearly lessened by the simple fact of their being here; she breathes easier, smiles brighter, feels softer than anywhere else. "Ludo... had been away, for a time. I'm not sure why, but I imagine a little of it was my fault." The baker winces, somewhat chagrined, not making eye contact with Abasi.Passing by Safrin's alter with a pulse of fond affection, the baker comes to stand beside Abasi at Ludo's little shrine. "Here," she says, reaching into her bag to pull out a small wooden doll. Well worn and clearly dearly beloved, its reticulated joints nevertheless work to allow some facsimile of movement. The paint that marks its face is faded, and its dress has clearly been repaired; still, it is a sweet image of a female figure that has belonged to multiple Chandrakant's past. "It likes gifts," the girl explains, placing the figurine on the altar before bowing her head in quiet prayer.
"Hello, Ludo... My friend had questions for you about the realm of Mort. I hoped you might be able to give him some insight."
she was like the moon-
part of her was always hidden away
part of her was always hidden away
