AMALIA
Amalia looks up as Jigano draws beside her, a pale blush blooming across her cheeks at the bard's playful tone. Wrinkling her nose in clear distaste, the girl shakes her head. "He thinks he can seduce his way to freedom- but I wonder if he isn't more your type?" The girl arches a pointed eyebrow, though her flush does not fade. Indeed, rose deepens to crimson once Deimos arrives; rising quickly to her feet, the baker dusts her pants, hoping that he has not heard, trying not to think about the lips she does wish to kiss.Slightly more composed, Amalia turns to face the men, her arms held tight across her chest. "We're going to need to help him up-" But ah, the leviathan is already on it, a length of rope produced in his hands. The baker evades as he throws it down, though appreciation and admiration is written on her face. That he should have a solution is no surprise: he is a savior after all, a knight with no armor, who asks for no fame.
Falling into line before him, Amalia grasps a segment of rope, ready to help and heave the thin man from his prison of dirt and stone.
You are flesh and blood
And you deserve to be loved
and you deserve what you are given
And oh, how much
And you deserve to be loved
and you deserve what you are given
And oh, how much
