Amalia
the shield of safrin
"Chastised by whom?" Amalia turns to the bird on her shoulder, pleasantly surprised by the appearance of her fluffy red friend. She had meant to seek Ianto out after their talk by the Spire, and his presence is a welcome comfort in the darkness of the Underground and the weight of her own doubtful thoughts. The days have grown brighter with the receding blight, but Amalia still feels the pressure of her recent failures pressing down upon her soul.Distractions are welcome. Distractions are how she remains sane. The underground is dark and icy, but a snow leopard's paws were meant for just such terrain, her eyes adjusting to the low light. "The Prince is... he's said to be an experiment of the Voice, made long ago. But not human. At the start." In truth, Amalia has not encountered the Prince before personally, but all the descriptions she has heard portray him as less villain than victim in his tale.
Stepping further into the tunnels, the baker proceeds slowly, the footing rather treacherous despite her feline claws. "I was hoping that... I don't know. Maybe the roses would help him, too. I suppose that sounds silly, though."
someday we'll find what we're looking for
or maybe not
maybe we'll find something much greater
