AmaLIa
shield of safrin
She hadn't recognized Ronin at first, too caught up in the shock of the sudden death, the spray of blood that rained from the sky. Now, though, she blinks rapidly up at him, as though trying to determine if she isn't hallucinating this whole damned event. "Ronin?" Amalia questions flatly, wishing desperately she could scramble to her feet. There's something terribly frightening about him, the casual violence and dripping mockery reminding her of the day they fought, when he was mad with blight.
She remembers, too, the fall of the temple, and Aoife's broken form.
Turning to better face him and cursing her worthless legs, she tries to sit up straight enough to mask her trembling fear. "How... how did you get here?" It's the first thing she can think to ask him; she doesn't know what else to say. Are you okay has an answer as obvious as the reckless grin and the hint of madness behind his blue eyes.
She remembers, too, the fall of the temple, and Aoife's broken form.
Turning to better face him and cursing her worthless legs, she tries to sit up straight enough to mask her trembling fear. "How... how did you get here?" It's the first thing she can think to ask him; she doesn't know what else to say. Are you okay has an answer as obvious as the reckless grin and the hint of madness behind his blue eyes.
you can't choose what stays
and what fades away
and what fades away
