You're so cold
but you feel alive
The girl closed her eyes. Took a long, steadying breath. Tried to center herself and shake off all the preconceptions, all the prejudice, all her tired annoyance and personal pain that was quite unrelated to this conversation. She focused on the heat of the sun, the scent of smoke and dry earth, of the damp lingering moisture on her hands and face. One by one, she sought out these things and fed them to the crackling fire she could hear not so far away; it hissed and mumbled, muttering in contained hunger as it consumed the fuel she'd fed it. Somewhere overhead, a hawk screeched, drawn by the smoke in hope that a grass fire might stir up prey.
When she looked up again, Maea regarded Amun and tried to actually see him. The person, not the Ascended. Tried to use the same lens as with every other person she met, where their chosen religion and nature was second to the personality, their actions, their efforts. For a moment it worked. At least now, while they stood there talking and the pyre burned and the peace was relatively easy to swallow.
"So... I'll make an effort. Then what?" Her head tilted slightly, pale brow rising in silent question. He was making an awful lot of effort to change the opinion of one person. It was almost as if he wanted to actually be friends.
When she looked up again, Maea regarded Amun and tried to actually see him. The person, not the Ascended. Tried to use the same lens as with every other person she met, where their chosen religion and nature was second to the personality, their actions, their efforts. For a moment it worked. At least now, while they stood there talking and the pyre burned and the peace was relatively easy to swallow.
"So... I'll make an effort. Then what?" Her head tilted slightly, pale brow rising in silent question. He was making an awful lot of effort to change the opinion of one person. It was almost as if he wanted to actually be friends.
lay your hands on me
one last time
MAEA
