Amalia
the shield of safrin
She takes the offered seat reluctantly, perched upon the edge of it not unlike a bird. Ready to fly, to flee, to spread her wings in self defense... or perhaps to relax. The last option feels quite unlikely, but anything can happen, she supposes.His explanation does little to actually enlighten her, though the promise of shared devotion does much to sand her sharper edges, help her settle her feathers down. And she would be lying if she said she was not intrigued, curious now with the thing Dorian has offered, entranced by this well-baited hook. "What do you mean, an avenue?" she wonders, watching as the man finds a seat across from her, his smile never wavering.
The offer of tea throws her once more off-balance, her focus startled back to where they are. "Um... yes. Thank you," she answers, more genuinely this time, extending her cup for him to fill.
someday we'll find what we're looking for
or maybe not
maybe we'll find something much greater
