AmaLiA
Safrin's shield
Though Wessex and Ronin are welcome arrivals for their respective strength and skill in battle, the arrivals of the guildmaster and the Ascended cause the qilin to turn an ear back uneasily. With Wessex here, who is guarding the Temple? And with Ronin - and a second dreamfish - out in the dark, and Jigano with Kiada, it leaves only Remi and Deimos to guard the guild and all who rest within.
For a moment she considers retreating back, but then the darkness strikes. Joyti croons her strong displeasure as the oppressive abyss yawns around them, desperately trying to cast enough starlight for the others to see by. Amalia's large ears fall back further as she shuffles in the dark, looking for figures and seeing Peter nearby, already slightly wounded. Moving her large body close to the Abandoned, the qilin stays vigilant as the darkness shifts and a creature appears within.
It is... it is not alive, and yet it is, by some miracle of Vi and Mort. Bones knitted together without sinew and eyes like empty, yawning chasms mark a luxere unlike any other Amalia has seen. She regards it carefully, not striking, not relaxing, as its question echoes through the dark. Life or death? The qilin exhales, shaking her large head. Her answer may not be what was asked, but it is the thing she has been raised to believe, the thing that Vi once told her. Living the life that Vi has given well enough to be worthy of Mort... that is most important.
Amalia attempts to guard Peter, and says that it's important to live a good life so you're worthy of death
For a moment she considers retreating back, but then the darkness strikes. Joyti croons her strong displeasure as the oppressive abyss yawns around them, desperately trying to cast enough starlight for the others to see by. Amalia's large ears fall back further as she shuffles in the dark, looking for figures and seeing Peter nearby, already slightly wounded. Moving her large body close to the Abandoned, the qilin stays vigilant as the darkness shifts and a creature appears within.
It is... it is not alive, and yet it is, by some miracle of Vi and Mort. Bones knitted together without sinew and eyes like empty, yawning chasms mark a luxere unlike any other Amalia has seen. She regards it carefully, not striking, not relaxing, as its question echoes through the dark. Life or death? The qilin exhales, shaking her large head. Her answer may not be what was asked, but it is the thing she has been raised to believe, the thing that Vi once told her. Living the life that Vi has given well enough to be worthy of Mort... that is most important.
Amalia attempts to guard Peter, and says that it's important to live a good life so you're worthy of death
& once again I shall kiss the sky
