Amalia
don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light
She has the good grace to look a little chagrined, grimacing as a blush rushes over her cheeks. "Of course," she murmurs, but she's smiling despite the gentle chiding, rubbing a hand over the back of her neck. "Okay. Flying. We can... I can do that." Will she be able to fly to the Climb, given the storms that lock in the Grounds? One way to find out, it seems.
Looking back up at the mention of matriarchs, Amalia tilts her head curiously, listening to the instructions. "What about the lightning?" she asks, a frown pulling at her brows. "Last time it struck the unicorns worst. And this time I won't have-" Deimos hangs unspoken on her lips, a painful reminder of what she's given up, of the cost it incurred.
"I won't have a good way to protect them," she finishes instead, looking back at the ground.
Looking back up at the mention of matriarchs, Amalia tilts her head curiously, listening to the instructions. "What about the lightning?" she asks, a frown pulling at her brows. "Last time it struck the unicorns worst. And this time I won't have-" Deimos hangs unspoken on her lips, a painful reminder of what she's given up, of the cost it incurred.
"I won't have a good way to protect them," she finishes instead, looking back at the ground.
