Amalia
Better late than never, that's what Amalia tells herself.
She has not been back to the Greatwood since her last conversation with Delah, what feels like years ago. It had proven too difficult, then, for their groups to work together, and in the interim Amalia had fallen to other preoccupations, growing complacent and distracted.
Now, though, she is focused again, ready to go back to work- to prove herself in the face of failure again and again and again.
She stands respectfully on the outskirts of the village, having adopted her leopard form. It's one some of the fae recognize, by now: nobody has been there so often, after all, harassing Delah and the tulmhainar. She told a child she was looking for Tarasha, a fae who Jigano had mentioned as being part of the Loreseekers now. Tail wrapped around her legs, the leopardess sits impatiently, not noticing the horns that grow as nubs on her forehead, the anxious way she paws the ground.
She has not been back to the Greatwood since her last conversation with Delah, what feels like years ago. It had proven too difficult, then, for their groups to work together, and in the interim Amalia had fallen to other preoccupations, growing complacent and distracted.
Now, though, she is focused again, ready to go back to work- to prove herself in the face of failure again and again and again.
She stands respectfully on the outskirts of the village, having adopted her leopard form. It's one some of the fae recognize, by now: nobody has been there so often, after all, harassing Delah and the tulmhainar. She told a child she was looking for Tarasha, a fae who Jigano had mentioned as being part of the Loreseekers now. Tail wrapped around her legs, the leopardess sits impatiently, not noticing the horns that grow as nubs on her forehead, the anxious way she paws the ground.