Amalia
the shield of safrin
Ronin's head against hers feels strangely, unexpectedly comforting. It is not a dissimilar gesture from the one Adam performed as she lay in the infirmary, moments after the temple fell on her. Perhaps ironic, then, to be mirrored by Ronin, but the Shield is grateful nonetheless, leaning into the friendly contact with another sigh of soft release.
The story of Aoife's makeshift cremation earns no consternation from the girl. She lets the confession hang in the air, instead focusing on the marker, the memorial to the beautiful soul the world lost too soon. "I'll go visit her soon," is the only comment, a promise to the father and the lost child. She'd loved Aoife, watched her walk and fed her cakes and played with her tail, and the ache of her loss still burns.
As for a marker... the Shield sits up, pulling away just enough to grab one of the bags she discarded. "Actually... I brought some of their things. I thought... well... I guess I didn't really have a plan for what to do with it. Maybe set it all on fire. Adam... he would have like that."
The story of Aoife's makeshift cremation earns no consternation from the girl. She lets the confession hang in the air, instead focusing on the marker, the memorial to the beautiful soul the world lost too soon. "I'll go visit her soon," is the only comment, a promise to the father and the lost child. She'd loved Aoife, watched her walk and fed her cakes and played with her tail, and the ache of her loss still burns.
As for a marker... the Shield sits up, pulling away just enough to grab one of the bags she discarded. "Actually... I brought some of their things. I thought... well... I guess I didn't really have a plan for what to do with it. Maybe set it all on fire. Adam... he would have like that."
She wants the silence but fears the solitude
she wants to be alone and together with you
she wants to be alone and together with you
