Amalia
the shield of safrin
Ronin will find little by way of obvious outward injury on the Shield. A constellation of shrapnel scars long her hairline on the right; more on her chest, her shoulder, her stomach, carefully hidden from view. No, the exterior of the Shield is largely healed thanks to the efforts of her family, her loved ones.
Scratch away that smooth veneer and Amalia is a gaping wound.
She reaches for him as he pulls away, terrified that if she lets him go he will disappear forever. Fingers reach for fingers, not holding but brushing, touching, a ghost of contact to confirm his warm existence at her side. "Until the middle of Flowerbirth." Her alto is carried on a salty breeze, drifting into reality and far away. She does not look at Ronin as they stare into the sea, wind snatching tendrils of golden hair out of the Shield's long braid.
He skirts around the darkness and she follows in his wake, perfectly content to deflect along with him for the time being. "We're staying in town. Couldn't the encantados help to keep the storms at bay?"
Scratch away that smooth veneer and Amalia is a gaping wound.
She reaches for him as he pulls away, terrified that if she lets him go he will disappear forever. Fingers reach for fingers, not holding but brushing, touching, a ghost of contact to confirm his warm existence at her side. "Until the middle of Flowerbirth." Her alto is carried on a salty breeze, drifting into reality and far away. She does not look at Ronin as they stare into the sea, wind snatching tendrils of golden hair out of the Shield's long braid.
He skirts around the darkness and she follows in his wake, perfectly content to deflect along with him for the time being. "We're staying in town. Couldn't the encantados help to keep the storms at bay?"
you drew memories in my mind
i could never erase
you painted colors in my heart
i could never replace
