silent night, starlit night

Safrin Safrin does not take the opportunity to wax philosophical about the notion of there being too much death. Not unlike Amalia, the diety too believes in higher powers. In the oversight of those who know better. As Amalia spins towards her, Safrin's fingers fall into her lap and she regards the onyx-eyed woman silently. "A tulmhainar in the Spire?" She echoes, galactic gaze narrowing thoughtfully. "Whatever makes you think so?"