Amalia
the shield of safrin
Well, that backfired. Certainly camp there, will he? When Josh leans forward Amalia leans back, automatically recoiling a little bit from this strange, obnoxious man. The picture of Outlander privilege, she thinks, narrowing her eyes again. Maybe he'll fall off the Spire she thinks, an uncommonly uncharitable fantasy for the Shield to entertain.
"Fine. Good luck." Her voice is curt, the dismissal clear. He clearly has no actual interest in her opinion. Clenching her hands on the table, she shakes her head. "If there's nothing else....?" The dismissal is clear in the baker's weary tone; clearer still when she turns around to face the oven. She's done for today.
"Fine. Good luck." Her voice is curt, the dismissal clear. He clearly has no actual interest in her opinion. Clenching her hands on the table, she shakes her head. "If there's nothing else....?" The dismissal is clear in the baker's weary tone; clearer still when she turns around to face the oven. She's done for today.
she is calm in the storm
and anxious in the quiet
and anxious in the quiet
