back to life

Amalia He did: another promise he means to keep, an oath made under a different sun and after a different disaster. Now he glistens among the water, moonlit and anointed in the lilac of her fire, arms outstretched, offerings made; Amalia shivers at it all. She is still afraid, but beautifully so, a shiver of anticipation running down that part of her spine which still is capable of such a reflex. She cannot rise and walk to him, but perhaps there are other ways to give her consent. Slowly, carefully, the girl shifts, her body morphing into feathery features, wings extending as arms shrink and change. Her rear legs do not take on the owl, instead adopting an otter's appearance, though that too fails to give her any level of security upon the ground. But that doesn't matter when she's in the air. Why had she not thought of this earlier? It's a little awkward, taking wing from a sitting position, but the girl pulls it off. Well enough to make her way to the water, at least, the otter's hind claws brushing across its surface as she sends herself hurtling into Deimos' arms, shifting once she strikes his form, taking on in full the semi-aquatic shape. Looking up into his blue eyes, the otter tries not to cling too tightly to his skin despite her riotous anxiety. Is this okay? reach for the stars: but child, first recognize the constellations of light you already carry inside you