if it doesn't burn a little
”You as a farmer. You know, I can actually see that,” she says, imagining him up at the crack of dawn to work. It is not hard to picture him with his sleeves rolled up, sweat on his brow, dirt on his face. ”We only needed to be up generally around dawn though. My brother...he was just the best of us, honestly.” The last part is tinged with sadness. Death followed them everywhere, but still, she enjoys looking back on those mornings with fondness all the same.
At his next sentence, she smiles warmly. ”There is a lot to live for, even when it doesn’t feel like it.” This time it is her turn to reach out a hand, resting it on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze. Though the moment doesn’t last long, interrupted as they are by the strange ghost-like wind.
Weaver chuckles. ”Far stranger things indeed,” she agrees, fingers stretching out to feel the small silver amulet. She looks closer at the amulet as Loren takes the invitations and begins to rifle through them. The symbols of the heralds are on amulet, and she suspects this is very much the sort of this Maea might have cared about. She can only believe that somehow, Maea is guiding them.
Weaver turns her attention back to Loren at his words, a bit of confusion on her face. ”Invitations for what?” she asks, hoping they were invitations for something good. Because they needed something good, and maybe Maea had left them that too. Girl seemed to think of everything.
At his next sentence, she smiles warmly. ”There is a lot to live for, even when it doesn’t feel like it.” This time it is her turn to reach out a hand, resting it on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze. Though the moment doesn’t last long, interrupted as they are by the strange ghost-like wind.
Weaver chuckles. ”Far stranger things indeed,” she agrees, fingers stretching out to feel the small silver amulet. She looks closer at the amulet as Loren takes the invitations and begins to rifle through them. The symbols of the heralds are on amulet, and she suspects this is very much the sort of this Maea might have cared about. She can only believe that somehow, Maea is guiding them.
Weaver turns her attention back to Loren at his words, a bit of confusion on her face. ”Invitations for what?” she asks, hoping they were invitations for something good. Because they needed something good, and maybe Maea had left them that too. Girl seemed to think of everything.
-- weaver
then what's the point in playing with fire?
