Amalia
she wants the silence but fears the solitude
she wants to be alone and together with you
The comment about more lanterns hurts her, guilt and grief still close to the fore. Instead of replying she continues to sort the nearby debris, the pointless and rhythmic action soothing. A piece of green glass catches her eye; she raises it up into the light, marveling in the smoothness of it, the way the water and sand have come together to dull sharp edges and create something beautiful. Just like Adam, the Shield thinks, sighing under a new wave of loss.
Thus she misses Jigano's envy, which perhaps is for the best. Still looking over the sand and sea, Amalia hums a thoughtful note. "Ludo... said that we do a disservice to those who are gone, when we think too much about what might have been instead of remembering what was." A small crab scuttles across the sand before them; she extends her hand, coaxing it to come investigate closer. Its long, pointy legs tickle against her palm as it makes its way onto her skin, eyestalks wiggling curiously.
Amalia raises her hand to her eyes, looking closely at the strange creature as it in turn stares back. "And Safrin... she helped me realize that I've been trying to be something I'm not. That I can't save every living thing, and Vi doesn't expect that of me, and if I give in to my failures I won't be able to help anyone." There is a resignation in her voice, as though this is recited and not fully believed - habits this deep are hard to break, and despite her absolute faith in the Old Gods, Amalia cannot prevent the doubt she has in herself.
Thus she misses Jigano's envy, which perhaps is for the best. Still looking over the sand and sea, Amalia hums a thoughtful note. "Ludo... said that we do a disservice to those who are gone, when we think too much about what might have been instead of remembering what was." A small crab scuttles across the sand before them; she extends her hand, coaxing it to come investigate closer. Its long, pointy legs tickle against her palm as it makes its way onto her skin, eyestalks wiggling curiously.
Amalia raises her hand to her eyes, looking closely at the strange creature as it in turn stares back. "And Safrin... she helped me realize that I've been trying to be something I'm not. That I can't save every living thing, and Vi doesn't expect that of me, and if I give in to my failures I won't be able to help anyone." There is a resignation in her voice, as though this is recited and not fully believed - habits this deep are hard to break, and despite her absolute faith in the Old Gods, Amalia cannot prevent the doubt she has in herself.
she ran to the lighthouse, hoped that it would help her see
she saw that the lighthouse had been washed out to sea
