Amalia
the shield of safrin
"I have heard of you." There is no beating around the bush, no attempt at cleverness or sly luring him into a trap. "From Sam. My brother." Where Nate wields humor Amalia wields truth, a great deal of ire and stress sharpening her tongue. Has he heard of her? Most people have these days, she's found, bizarre as that particular fact remains.
For once she hopes he has heard, though. And she hopes what he's heard is bad.
A sharp snort of derision leaves her, unsurprised at this account. "So you, what, thought you could come here and buy something sweet to make amends? From me? For Sunjata?" As if. Wrapping her arms over her chest, Amalia simply narrows her glare. "I'm afraid I don't make a point of serving cheaters or liars. Or thieves."
For once she hopes he has heard, though. And she hopes what he's heard is bad.
A sharp snort of derision leaves her, unsurprised at this account. "So you, what, thought you could come here and buy something sweet to make amends? From me? For Sunjata?" As if. Wrapping her arms over her chest, Amalia simply narrows her glare. "I'm afraid I don't make a point of serving cheaters or liars. Or thieves."
we drink the poison our mind pours for us
and wonder why we feel so sick
and wonder why we feel so sick
