You're so cold
but you feel alive
Well, no. She shouldn't. Already her skin was red and burning from the harmful light, flaking in places where the damage was older. But the pain was something she was well accustomed to, a necessary evil if she were to get anything done. Working with lanterns in the dark was far more dangerous, especially this time of year when everything was parched and dry as kindling.
"At least I'm not likely to spontaneously burst into flame," she countered, remembering what Rex had told her. "But it's your funeral..." Shrugging, she made sure to keep her eyes on the fire. Crickets chirped in deafening unison in the grasses about the yard, but it was the flinthoppers she was worried about. The pests were everywhere, and sometimes she swore they were drawn to fires, all too eager to kindle others in the vicinity.
"Some trinkets, odds and ends... a chest full of books. It's mostly things from the barn," she answered. Setting the pitchfork down with the prongs safely tucked into dry soil, Maea turned and nodded towards the open barn door behind her. Just inside the building was a large pile of items, safely under roof and ready to be locked up once she was done for the day.
"Have a look if you want, see if there's anything you've need of. I'll be trading it all away, so..." Though in return for what, she wasn't sure. In terms of immediate value, she had a small fortune on her hands but no real idea what to do with it. The alcohol left in the brewery had already been promised to the VlamVloed, ready to be shipped off the next day, but the rest? It was too much, really. Better if she could have it whittled away some.
And she did owe Amun an apology. Perhaps free stuff would help mend that bridge a little bit.
"At least I'm not likely to spontaneously burst into flame," she countered, remembering what Rex had told her. "But it's your funeral..." Shrugging, she made sure to keep her eyes on the fire. Crickets chirped in deafening unison in the grasses about the yard, but it was the flinthoppers she was worried about. The pests were everywhere, and sometimes she swore they were drawn to fires, all too eager to kindle others in the vicinity.
"Some trinkets, odds and ends... a chest full of books. It's mostly things from the barn," she answered. Setting the pitchfork down with the prongs safely tucked into dry soil, Maea turned and nodded towards the open barn door behind her. Just inside the building was a large pile of items, safely under roof and ready to be locked up once she was done for the day.
"Have a look if you want, see if there's anything you've need of. I'll be trading it all away, so..." Though in return for what, she wasn't sure. In terms of immediate value, she had a small fortune on her hands but no real idea what to do with it. The alcohol left in the brewery had already been promised to the VlamVloed, ready to be shipped off the next day, but the rest? It was too much, really. Better if she could have it whittled away some.
And she did owe Amun an apology. Perhaps free stuff would help mend that bridge a little bit.
lay your hands on me
one last time
MAEA
