Just a stirring in my soul

Amalia A simple smile can change a day An understanding look can say I know exactly how you feel A shadow passes over Remi's face, and for a moment Amalia dims in turn, wishing to recant, to reignite that happy warmth. The moment passes, though, and both of the felines ease a little bit, tensed muscles easing back to smiles. Shyly the baker takes the girl, wrapping her gently in her arms, delight in her face as she looks upon the babe. Taking a seat she faces Aoife forward, so she and Remi can see one another even from afar. "I understand," she says, though in truth she does not: Amalia has had nothing like a child, never loved or cared for something the way Remi must care for this life. She can only imagine that bond, the way her grandmother would look at her, and her mother, too, at one time. "She is lucky, to be so loved." Amalia hides her pain in a smile, bowing her head back to look at Aoife as Remi offers condolences. "We are used to losing people, here," she confides quietly, continuing to make finger puppets for the child's entertainment. Her smile brightens as she taps on Aoife's toes, hoping to elicit more laughter from the babe. Looking back at Remi, the baker shyly smiles, pride coloring her cheeks a rosy gold as he compliments her food. "I'll send some home with you," she offers easily. "Where are you living? The Domiciles?"