Amalia
she wants the silence but fears the solitude
she wants to be alone and together with you
"The one we used after LongNight." Amalia remembers the wordless song, their venture into woods that should never have existed. Slowly she nods, understanding. It makes more sense now, that the song they needed to summon the lost souls should play a role here as well. Still, she remains unhappy about the turn of events, irate with both Jigano and Rory - and with herself, for not asking earlier. For not doing more.
Curled up on the armchair, Amalia looks rather as though she might vanish into the upholstery. She is tired, and small, worn down by weeks of trying her best, of carrying weight not meant for her frame. Jigano's lack of faith and understanding is just another blow to her confidence, as is her own inability to be a better friend. It is more than she can manage at LongNight, to bridge this new divide.
It may be more than she can ever do.
Placing her head back on her knees, the baker curls up further into the chair. Jigano has already made it clear that her attempts to voice her discontent will only be met with more defenses, and she cannot blame him in the end. "Be... be safe, out there," she murmurs quietly, not wanting to voice more of her fears, not when he clearly sees them as a personal affront. She should not ask or need need others to carry and validate the ache of her splintering mind. She can hurt in private, as she always has.
Curled up on the armchair, Amalia looks rather as though she might vanish into the upholstery. She is tired, and small, worn down by weeks of trying her best, of carrying weight not meant for her frame. Jigano's lack of faith and understanding is just another blow to her confidence, as is her own inability to be a better friend. It is more than she can manage at LongNight, to bridge this new divide.
It may be more than she can ever do.
Placing her head back on her knees, the baker curls up further into the chair. Jigano has already made it clear that her attempts to voice her discontent will only be met with more defenses, and she cannot blame him in the end. "Be... be safe, out there," she murmurs quietly, not wanting to voice more of her fears, not when he clearly sees them as a personal affront. She should not ask or need need others to carry and validate the ache of her splintering mind. She can hurt in private, as she always has.
she ran to the lighthouse, hoped that it would help her see
she saw that the lighthouse had been washed out to sea
