AMALIA
you're staring at the sky
watching stars collide
His laughter makes her smile, a chuckle arising in response. Amalia has never been a the-glass-is-half-full person: she is more of a the-glass-is-cracked-and-the-water-is-spilling-out-but-you've-just-gotta-keep-pouring-more-in-because-what-else-are-you-gonna-do? person.watching stars collide
Eventually someone with a greater thirst will need to drink from the cup, and all Amalia can do is make sure there's some water for them, even if she has to give all of herself away to do it.
"I dunno. I've known worse." Smiling wryly at the man, she shakes her head again, not particularly impressed with his weighty and endless self deprecation. Adam may talk a big talk about being a bad guy, but the man she knows is more lost child than wicked villain, trying to make his way in a difficult world just like the rest of them. Any early concern she may have felt about him has long since waned away, replaced by a deep-set concern for him, the same affectionate and fierce protection that the leopard extends to all her friends.
She bites back the urge to leap immediately into story as Adam proclaims his ignorance, knowledge of the gods always ready on her tongue. "I... could teach you about them. If you want." There is no reason he wouldn't, as far as she can see: aside from her own love of the beings, Amalia believes in knowledge, in curiosity. The deities are a feature of their world, present and interactive, beautiful and wise. "Ludo is a soul-gatherer. It collects spirits for Mort, the god of death." It is an invitation for him to ask more. The baker could easily wax poetic about the natures of the gods, spinning stories and spouting piety into the early hours.
