until i'm ready, let me be
They circle each other with words and assessments, both so strongly entrenched on their side that common ground feels worlds away. His counter argument - history by the victors - is apt enough, but the people of the Hollowed Ground hardly feel like victors in this war. "At least we can try." Isn't that what they're doing now, after all? Trying?
Amalia resists the urge to roll her eyes: one time Sam had encountered sunlight. Hadn't the Voice done so much worse, time and time again? "I think they would want us to understand," she says simply, a little terse, though the god she thinks most likely to give them a straight answer is not the one she would prefer to encounter. "Do you think the Voice wouldn't curse me immediately? She threatened me, last time we spoke."
As for where he goes when he dies, Amalia furrows her brow. "That's not what I-" But no: they are trying to avoid making assumptions, or something. Swallowing, she tries again. "How do you know? Have you seen it? Spoken to any of the souls there?"
Amalia resists the urge to roll her eyes: one time Sam had encountered sunlight. Hadn't the Voice done so much worse, time and time again? "I think they would want us to understand," she says simply, a little terse, though the god she thinks most likely to give them a straight answer is not the one she would prefer to encounter. "Do you think the Voice wouldn't curse me immediately? She threatened me, last time we spoke."
As for where he goes when he dies, Amalia furrows her brow. "That's not what I-" But no: they are trying to avoid making assumptions, or something. Swallowing, she tries again. "How do you know? Have you seen it? Spoken to any of the souls there?"
i have to heal myself
AmaLiA
