my love affair with water runs deep into my soul,
the serenity as intense as the tides ebb and flow
Amun smirked, though it was weak and faded quickly. ”You didn’t answer my question.” Spreading his hands in a helpless gesture, he gave her an almost blank look. ”Would you be so indigent if it had been the old gods that brought the Outlanders?” Finally he shrugged. "Why waste time worrying about things we cannot change, then? Isn't it best to make the most of what we are given?" The potter's voice was as reasonable as he could make it.
Crossing his arms, he regarded her carefully, eyes veiled. Finally he sighed, and gestured at the pyre. "What's the point of this conversation? What's the point of you cleaning up around here? Neither is strictly necessary for survival." He crossed his arms again. "Dying is never fun. I still have that survival instinct, at least. And I create. I explore. I live."
Crossing his arms, he regarded her carefully, eyes veiled. Finally he sighed, and gestured at the pyre. "What's the point of this conversation? What's the point of you cleaning up around here? Neither is strictly necessary for survival." He crossed his arms again. "Dying is never fun. I still have that survival instinct, at least. And I create. I explore. I live."
nothing is softer or more flexible than water,
yet nothing can resist it
AMUN
