Weaver
Time is the substance from which I am made.
Time is a river which carries me along,
but I am the river;
Time is a river which carries me along,
but I am the river;
A shadow falls on her, the first real indication of anyone else around her. He is impressively silent for someone so large, though she is not surprised by his skill. The sound of something like a chuckle greets her, and then a familiar voice. Weaver turns slightly to better see the man approaching, the ball of fire left hovering over the water where she’d manage to push it. ”I told you,” she says with a grin.
The ball of fire vanishes, and she removes her hands from beneath her legs, though does not stand. He is no threat, after all, and they have certainly spent time sitting on the ground in one another's company before. ”Zariah’s methods may be questionable, but they do seem to work...which I am loath to admit.” She sounds a little displeased at the idea of actually praising something Zariah did, and yet, she had to give the Archmage some credit. ”One of the other students, Maea, helped me figure out how to actually conjure flame though,” she adds, glad it was not just Zariah.
The ball of fire vanishes, and she removes her hands from beneath her legs, though does not stand. He is no threat, after all, and they have certainly spent time sitting on the ground in one another's company before. ”Zariah’s methods may be questionable, but they do seem to work...which I am loath to admit.” She sounds a little displeased at the idea of actually praising something Zariah did, and yet, she had to give the Archmage some credit. ”One of the other students, Maea, helped me figure out how to actually conjure flame though,” she adds, glad it was not just Zariah.
it is a tiger that devours me, but I am the tiger;
it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire.
it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire.
