wash away our sore eyed souls

YOU SAID THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE MOON IT ROSE TOO SOON AND WE'RE DOING WHAT WE SHOULD She rises too swiftly, a little dizzy, blinking as the world spins a little, twisting and swimming in her gaze. A little unsteady, she focuses on her hand in his, her fingers lacing carefully among his, anchoring herself down. At least the prospect of meeting a unicorn - his unicorn - is enough to briefly distract her from her brooding, and her face is radiant as she brings him along, dark eyes wide and glittering with excitement. When the door opens Amalia initially catches her breath, because it's red- Oh wait, no. That's her staff. Her first thought is that the unicorn is beautiful. Her second thought is that bringing it into the bakery may have been a terrible idea, because the already cozy space has become suddenly small, dwarfed down the majestic creature with intelligent blue eyes (blue like his). Her third thought is rain on a rocky coast, old songs and new stories, the sagacity of age. It takes her a moment to realize that these thoughts are not hers, but Jyoti's, flooding their bond through her slightly drunken haze. The little whale coos starlight to the mare, swimming around her in curious inspection as she lowers her head to look at Amalia, causing the girl to catch her breath. "Hello, Zuriel," the baker murmurs, reaching out to gently caress a perfectly sculpted cheek. The dark mare moves off to greet the others in their strange little family, and Amalia steps back into Deimos' orbit, unabashedly reaching for his arm to wrap around her shoulders. "What's it mean? Zuriel?" she murmurs, arcing her neck to look at his face, her own settling neatly against his shoulder. "I think Jyo likes her." It takes Jigano's statement a minute to cut through her haze, but when it does her reaction is swift and strong, body tensing as her head swings around, dark eyes fixing on him with a blazing disbelief. "What?!" the baker echoes Kiada, but does not stop there. Pulling against Deimos' embrace, ready to charge over to Jigano and shake him should the behemoth let her go, Amalia's tone is a little wild, a little feral, a little harsh."We barely made it out of there - we all almost died - Safrin- Safrin--! And you want to go back?" a m a l i a You said it's life that moves too much We're losing touch But I'm not losing you