An Apple a Day

Amalia I took the stars from our eyes and I made a map "Remi made it, actually." Her voice is quiet, stumbling a little over the name: she has no idea where Sam and Remi currently stand, but remembers his frustration with the Alchemist on their last encounter. "Here. Give it a try." Extending the staff toward him, she waits for him to take it or decline. Whatever awkwardness may have lingered from the physical exchange swiftly morphs into a new discomfort as Amalia realizes she has well and truly put her foot in her mouth. A small, petty part of her cannot help feeling vindictive: she'd known that dating Loren would only end poorly, that it was a terrible plan, that he would fail Sam. But looking at her brother's downcast face, she cannot find it in herself to say I told you so. "I'm sorry, Sam," Amalia says softly, twisting her hands uncomfortably and digging her toes into the dirt. "That... gods, what an asshole." The vitriol is unusual coming from her mouth, but Amalia's irritation with the summoner has only been rising of late. "You deserve a lot better, anyway. Loren's a mess, and an idiot." And I knew that somehow I could find my way back