[se] baby that's the fun of me

Amalia may not be the best at social graces, but she knows well enough when to let things go. Besides, there is nothing she can say, no way to take the pain off Remi's shoulders and restore the light to those green eyes. Shifting on the blanket, Amalia lounges onto her side, her head propped up on her left hand as she watches the little girl play. Swallowing, she makes an attempt to steer their way back to more pleasant topics, willing to give a piece of herself now that she has seen more of him. "We aren't born Attuned, either." He already knows this, of course, but it is important in her belated answer, the story of her rebirth. "We're either Accepted - with a clean slate - or Abandoned, with magic." Reaching out to pull at Aoife's toes, the baker smiles at the baby, her voice adjusting a childlike cadence. "My nani - my grandmother, was an attuned- yes she was, and she was beautiful, a fearsome and gentle tiger." She scrunches her eyebrows, lets the leopard ears return to the sides of her face, touches a damp, cold, feline nose to Aoife's, if the child will allow it. "My mother was an abandoned, though. Abandoned can't choose to become attuned - well, usually - but she had healing magic and worked for a long time in the infirmary. I was also accepted when I was born, and I think she was disappointed by that. My grandmother wanted me to become attuned, but my mom didn't. She always told me I should wait to decide until I was older and had experienced more of the world." Shrugging, she looks back at the sky, peering into clouds. It was one of the many things the woman had argued over, another of countless points of contention between Rishima and her mom. Amalia i've been watching your kindness keep a lonely company - look at the fire and think of me