Maea
Waking from the dream
Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in
Sometimes it was hard to remember that Ophelia was the same age as her. Maea was reminded of walking across the pasture with her brother's children, back when they were alive, and it startled her every time she realized that the pale waif was not actually a youth. Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in
She didn't mind it, though. The freedom in Ophelia's mannerisms had Maea relaxing in response, brightening where she otherwise might be tempted to sink into brooding silence.
Coming over when her friend called, the Ancient leaned over her shoulder to peer at the find. The void aura had her grimacing with discomfort; not even flowers were allowed to remain soft, it seemed.
"It's good enough for me," she agreed. Shifting the bag from her shoulder, Maea hunched down and began rummaging through it for what they would need. "Do you prefer digging or preparing the container?"
Lining up a small hand shovel, a big jar that would have to double as a pot and her half-filled water skin, she let Phi decide what would be less unnerving.
The end is what you fear
The scent of embers lingers in the air
The scent of embers lingers in the air
