Amalia
a certain darkness is needed to see the stars
✩
There is no gentle reassurance in Safrin's tone, no promise of forgiveness in her celestial smile. Amalia cannot help but swallow down a lump of sudden anxiety as she is invited to sit across the table, the implications of a chat whirling around her mind. But though she is anxious, though she worries, though she has been a foolish child, she trusts in the wisdom of the Old Gods.
So she does as she is told.
Settling onto the wooden bench, the Shield bows her head. "I... I'm sorry for how I acted, after..." She swallows, throat dry, the words dying in her throat. "Thank you for... for giving me back my legs. I'll try to do better next time."
So she does as she is told.
Settling onto the wooden bench, the Shield bows her head. "I... I'm sorry for how I acted, after..." She swallows, throat dry, the words dying in her throat. "Thank you for... for giving me back my legs. I'll try to do better next time."
