meet me where the falling stars live
I will wait for you day and night
How easy would it be to say that she's consistently getting better- and how much easier to say that she's not. But life is complicated, and Amalia thinks a moment before answering Loren's question, her voice quiet, her expression wry. "Some days well. Some days not so much." The road to recovery is a long and difficult one, and Amalia would be lying if she said she didn't constantly lose her way.As Loren grabs a handful of oats Amalia pushes out a few flakes of hay she'd gotten from Rory's farm. It's a bit of a struggle, but she makes it up the ladder, covered in lengths of golden straw, her hair and clothes more plant than person. As she deposits the lunch for the luxere the baker shakes her head, picking a long length of hay from her mane. "Better be grateful, you silly creatures," the shield murmurs good naturedly, reaching out to scratch one under the chin before disappearing into the shop.
Amalia hums as she gathers things for lunch, a folk song about Ludo and the pursuit of a rabbit that did not want to hibernate for LongNight. Now and then snippets of words escape her lips: "Rabbit runs on frozen ground, hiding in the snow moss... 'Get to safety,' Ludo calls, 'Or you'll find your soul lost'..." With the knowledge of one who lives and breathes a place she finds the things she needs, filling up two bowls with stew before slicing into a loaf of bread.
Amalia
