Amalia
the shield of safrin
The will-o'-the-wisp's thoughts are a jumble of juvenile ideas and chaos, but Amalia smiles nonetheless as it settles upon the comb, a flash of sadness crossing over her face. "Do you like it?" she asks, finding it easier to speak to Shii than Maea, a not uncommon situation for the girl to be in.It is the question about Jyoti that has Amalia glancing up, her cheeks flushed from the cold despite the leopard fur that peeks out near her ears. "She's... alright." At this closer vantage she notices Maea's lack of protection from - and lack of reaction to - the winter chill, blinking a moment before shrugging it off as likely being some sort of magic. Or maybe Maea just can't feel cold.
Certainly she brings up the disaster with the dragon coolly enough, Amalia wincing visibly as pain and guilt dance over her expressive face. She turns away from Maea again, looking across the busy square, the people who have made their life in this unforgiving place. "You heard about that." Not a question: she's sure many have, though she wonders which version the other girl knows. "Jyoti likes it here. And I think my nani would have, too." Rubbing her fingers over the comb, the Shield furrows her brow. "What about you? What are you doing here?"
someday we'll find what we're looking for
or maybe not
maybe we'll find something much greater
