where'er the goddess turns her melancholy gaze, Man his loathsomeness displays
Reprimand isn’t unexpected, though a grimace appears in place of sheepishness when a voice cuts in to do so. Turning, her ruby-shot irises land on the woman that has come to her side, and broad shoulders relax from where they had tightened up to her ears like a scolded child.
“Archangel,” she greets, voice smooth and deep. Turning a disgruntled look back to the books at the demigod’s query, Anju gives a brisk exhale through her nose that’s as close to a sigh as she’ll get. “Do you know of any recorded literature on Ascended souls? These books are impassioned but…useless.” Concise as ever, she turns fully to face Amalia, hands braced on her hips as if staring down a problem is a viable solution.
“Archangel,” she greets, voice smooth and deep. Turning a disgruntled look back to the books at the demigod’s query, Anju gives a brisk exhale through her nose that’s as close to a sigh as she’ll get. “Do you know of any recorded literature on Ascended souls? These books are impassioned but…useless.” Concise as ever, she turns fully to face Amalia, hands braced on her hips as if staring down a problem is a viable solution.
ANJU
