my love affair with water runs deep into my soul,
the serenity as intense as the tides ebb and flow
Amun didn’t come out to the Fields much, as evidenced by the random way he wandered through them. However, after being forced to conclude that he wasn't going to be able to work in his studio, he'd turned back to his older crafts: stealing, scavenging, looting, pickpocketing, and other misdeeds. There were always valuables to be found in pretty much any part of the Hollowed Grounds.
Despite the heat of Longheat, a dark cloak covered his body. Granted, he couldn't feel it, and the sunlight was much more worrisome than the cloak. On the subject of heat, in the distance, he saw a plume of smoke rising. Frowning, he picked up his pace and changed his angle to head towards it. Although he knew how dangerous fire was, he also knew how quickly it could spread, and had no desire to be in the path of a raging inferno.
So he'd check, and then run if he had to.
However, it turned out to be a much more controlled blaze, one that Maea stood over with a bucket of water. He hesitated, before finally calling out to her. "I've always found that sand or dirt works much better than water." Staying far away from the fire, he crossed his arms. "What prompted this little bout of arson?" There was something a little off about his voice, something rote or mechanical.
Despite the heat of Longheat, a dark cloak covered his body. Granted, he couldn't feel it, and the sunlight was much more worrisome than the cloak. On the subject of heat, in the distance, he saw a plume of smoke rising. Frowning, he picked up his pace and changed his angle to head towards it. Although he knew how dangerous fire was, he also knew how quickly it could spread, and had no desire to be in the path of a raging inferno.
So he'd check, and then run if he had to.
However, it turned out to be a much more controlled blaze, one that Maea stood over with a bucket of water. He hesitated, before finally calling out to her. "I've always found that sand or dirt works much better than water." Staying far away from the fire, he crossed his arms. "What prompted this little bout of arson?" There was something a little off about his voice, something rote or mechanical.
nothing is softer or more flexible than water,
yet nothing can resist it
AMUN
