whether tempest tossed thee here ashore

Amalia

the shield of safrin

"He thinks he has to be responsible for the world." Amalia can have no way of knowing that this accusation will soon be levelled at her, from an unexpected source. She says no more: she has her own grievances with Jigano of late, but airing them here feels counterproductive.

Besides, there are new lives to celebrate, new bonds to make. It takes everything Amalia has to keep from shying away from the little dragon, a pang of fear and anger and remorse stabbing sharply through her. It looks so much like coffee that the girl at first wonders if it isn't a ghost... But no, this dragonling feels different in her mind.

And its mind is focused on Wessex.

Making sure to keep a careful distance from the bonding pair, Amalia slides out from under the stone, shifting slowly to keep the rock from falling too hard. Only when she emerges does she fully reclaim her human form, watching in awe at what's happening before her. "She wants you," Amalia murmurs softly; it is unclear which of the pair she is talking to. Her voice is tight with unspent emotion, her dark eyes glitter with unshed tears. "You're hers, now."

she's just like the weather
can't hold her together