Amalia
Amalia shakes her head a little in quiet exasperation. Initially she had been taken by the Fae, literally and figuratively. Their society, their knowledge, their understanding- but oh, it's exhausting to be constantly buffeted by stubbornness, to have everything guarded with such ferocity. Crossing her arms over her chest, the baker flashes Ianto a wry smile. "You'd think if they didn't want us traipsing around the forest they'd give us a way to go through it." The Fae have long been gatekeepers of the Greatwood, but now they are stopping those from the Hollowed Grounds from seeing the world as well. It's not sustainable, and something in Amalia aches and strains, angry to have another barrier, angry to be once again caught.
don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light
