Stars fading, but I linger on, dear

sweet dreams till sunbeams find you, sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you

Safrin hums a note of agreement, for nothing Amalia says is wrong hence the admin's attempt to curb the number of Outlanders we have. "I find it...so amusing that they think having come from another world lets them make judgements about this one. How they swept in with their plans for the Grounds, how easily they tore down the barrier because they couldn't understand the sacrifices made to keep it up. Even now I hear it in them, wanting to change this world. Wanting to curb it to their own expectations." But she is not a mortal, her power largely unquestioned, unlike Amalia.

Safrin snorts at this. "Friend? Frey doesn't have friends. They have toys, same with Ludo." The mention of Ronin however stills the goddess, and she raises a brow at the baker. Her eyes are free of judgement, and perhaps there is an inkling of remorse there, or at least of understanding. 'When he died I selfishly wanted him close." Safrin replies, her shrug seeming all the more human for the way she appears to cow slightly. "Is that what you want, Amalia? Some sort of...token gesture that none can question? To call me friend, or carry around some piece of me, or to know I'd keep you from all you love and the second-life you'd lead in Mort's realms, to bury you amongst the stars?"

but in your dreams whatever they be, dream a little dream of me