Counting thoughts

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." The story of the carnage at the festival had run rampant across the Grounds. Everyone who hadn't been there had already been told of the tragedy - of the monster, and the dead, and the calamity at the Temple that followed - though the exact reasons for all of it were rather vague. If Maea hadn't already gotten the gist of the story she would have paid more attention to the rumors, but as it was, she was more concerned about the baker, the fellow Loreseeker, the childhood friend. If friend was the right word. She wasn't sure anymore. Their relation had always been more complicated than that. Maea entered the Infirmary and looked around. There were far more patients occupying the cots than even a rowdy a Fiat Lux dance normally should warrant, and though she quickly spotted Amalia among them, she held herself back for a moment. Was it really a good idea to come here? Amalia would no doubt need rest, and she might make things worse if her presence was unwanted. Not to mention that she wasn't entirely sure she actually wanted to check in on this particular person. There was so much water under the bridge by now, of pent up feelings and old misunderstandings. But then... Maea if anyone knew what it was like to be confined to a bed, unable to leave it. Once, it had been her over there. So... wasn't it owed, after all this time? Shifting the burden she carried under the shawl, Maea cleared her throat with an awkward smile, and moved towards the bed and her friend - again, questionmark on that - with a quiet look of concern. That at least was genuine because frankly, in her eyes the baker looked to have been wrung out quite thoroughly. "Hi, Amalia. Long time no see. I heard what happened... How are you feeling?" ---- <3