Amalia
A deeper conversation is all I want from you-
Amalia shakes her head automatically, not having recognized the fallen man. "He was thin. Dark hair. Tattoos. Green eyes." Glassy and sightless, staring at the sky, stark and brilliant against the red of the blood that covered his throat. Amalia closes her own dark gaze, swallowing down bile at the memory.Looking back up at Sunjata, Amalia nods slowly, the gravity of what this might mean for Sam settling on her shoulders. She hadn't told Remi or Ronin, fearing the retribution those men might dole out, and now as she looks up at the Flood she wonders if she made the right choice. "He was sick," the girl says softly, knowing that Sunjata was ill as well, that he knows the implications of what it meant for his mental state. "He didn't know. But... he needs to be held responsible for his actions. Justice, not vengeance."
- I want the words you're afraid to say:
the lonely ones you keep hidden
between the folds of your heart
