Amalia
the shield of safrin
"So are you," she replies with a small shrug, remembering vaguely how Wessex had seemed to be everywhere during the ill-fated festival. Back when Amalia had believed the worst thing that would ever happen to her was the building falling upon her spine, and the days of convalescence that followed.
Back before Adam died.
Pushing her brows together quizzically, Amalia smiles at Wessex with surprising gentleness and patience. "You should be able to feel her better than I can, now." Easy as it would be to act as dragon translator - a name is already hovering at the fore of its thoughts, as well as a great deal of gratitude and infatuation for her Ascended rescuer - the Shield wants to encourage the Wraith to cultivate this bond.
It's a strange thing for her to be in the position of teacher with Wessex, but she tries not to think about that too hard.
Back before Adam died.
Pushing her brows together quizzically, Amalia smiles at Wessex with surprising gentleness and patience. "You should be able to feel her better than I can, now." Easy as it would be to act as dragon translator - a name is already hovering at the fore of its thoughts, as well as a great deal of gratitude and infatuation for her Ascended rescuer - the Shield wants to encourage the Wraith to cultivate this bond.
It's a strange thing for her to be in the position of teacher with Wessex, but she tries not to think about that too hard.
she's just like the weather
can't hold her together
can't hold her together
