[Seasonal Event] Three is Company

Amalia turns at the sound of Rory, the smile still lighting up her scratched and dirty face. Her moment with Jigano was welcome, warm, but it is warmer now that Rory is here- and again the baker glances between their faces, thinking she sees something in the looks exchanged. She may be young, but she is not dense, not oblivious the the simmering bond which runs a different course than that which binds her to them. Amalia chuckles quietly to herself, stepping away as Jigano leaves to stand by Rory's side, that small pang of loneliness buried beneath contentment of work, happiness with the day. Nodding, she too goes to collect some wood, following the aureate men into the old barn. Another hour or so of work, and Amalia steps back, wiping sweat away from her brow. Her work on this part has been slow, laborious, unimpressive in its yield, and as the girl looks upon it a growl rises from her gut. Turning a bashful grin to her companions, Amalia puts her tools down and raises her arms into a stretch, falling forward to graze the ground with her fingers and wincing as her back crackles and pops. "It's getting late," the girl remarks, eyeing the laboring men. "Why don't I go in and start making dinner? I'll let you two, ah, finish up on your own..." There is no mistaking the mischief in her voice, the twinkle in her eye. Before they have a chance to retaliate Amalia is gone, disappearing into the waning daylight and retreating to the safety of the farm house. a m a l i a You were young and you'd stare With a reverence unimpaired Searching in your dark eyes to find the stars already there