Amalia
Licking wounds. Amalia laughs a little, a strange, choked sound, shaking her head. "No, um... you bite them. And drink from the wound. I... I think." Truth be told, Amalia has never participated in the feeding process of an Ascended, nor witnessed it. "I'm told it doesn't hurt." Sipping her tea, the baker bites her lip.
She will answer the rest of Amun's questions as well as she can, but it is time to get to work. Yawning widely from her lack of sleep, the baker begins her morning bustle: stoking the ovens, gathering the rising dough from the night before, preparing the day's bakes. The invitation for Amun to linger remains, and Amalia will put him to work and answer his questions if he does not want to sleep, or send him up to the small attic bedroom if he does.
She will answer the rest of Amun's questions as well as she can, but it is time to get to work. Yawning widely from her lack of sleep, the baker begins her morning bustle: stoking the ovens, gathering the rising dough from the night before, preparing the day's bakes. The invitation for Amun to linger remains, and Amalia will put him to work and answer his questions if he does not want to sleep, or send him up to the small attic bedroom if he does.
