the darkest nights produce the brightest stars
Amalia is in a rare moment between tasks, one batch of bread in the oven, another set to rise. So Arialla will find her rather relaxed, her elbows on the counter and a cup of tea between her hands as she scribbles in a book. Jyoti hovers over her shoulder, sometimes cooing unhelpfully and generally demanding skritches.
She looks up briefly when the girl walks in, anxious to complete her thought before getting derailed. "Ah... just a moment, please!" Finishing her writing swiftly, Amalia straightens up at last to regard the woman with large dark eyes, trying to remember the question. Advice about Safrin?
Brightening considerably, the Shield half-smiles awkwardly. Her status as defacto Safrin expert never fails to bemuse the girl, as much of an ego boost as it is. "Of, of course. What kind of advice?"
She looks up briefly when the girl walks in, anxious to complete her thought before getting derailed. "Ah... just a moment, please!" Finishing her writing swiftly, Amalia straightens up at last to regard the woman with large dark eyes, trying to remember the question. Advice about Safrin?
Brightening considerably, the Shield half-smiles awkwardly. Her status as defacto Safrin expert never fails to bemuse the girl, as much of an ego boost as it is. "Of, of course. What kind of advice?"
