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." Maea simply shrugged, as confused as the Shield about the specifics of her case - or rather, the lack of specific details. I don't know. If I did find one, I can't recall it. Nor what I was doing this whole year. To me it feels like a week has passed, or maybe a bit more, and I've been very drowsy lately. Like I slept for a long time, or not nearly enough..." She tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. "My memories aren't entirely clear or reliable either. Someone suggested I might have been touched by a spirit... it's as likely as any explanation at this point. Quite the interesting puzzle though." Smiling slightly, she reached for the bag of pastries. Producing a pair of napkins, she picked one out for Amalia and one for herself, offering it to the bedridden woman. "Want me to get you some tea? I'm sure they have something around that isn't medicinally foul... I remember the remedies used to make me lose all taste for food, back in the day. Sweets take the edge off it though." Taking a bite from her own treat, the pale-eyed woman listened to the reply, noting the sour tone and the weariness without saying anything. Nor did she try to console, merely nodding thoughtfully as she chewed. "Indeed. I imagine it must be rough... I mean, look at you. Not even a proper glorious death, after all that effort. The stories never said anything about the heroes getting broken bones, or nightmares after their glorious deeds either, or making everything worse by jumping into things too quickly." She rolled her eyes. "In hindsight, it's quite the sucky job description."