Amalia
the shield of safrin
At first she doesn't notice that he's gone quiet, thinking thoughts of her own creation, mind distracted as it ever is. But as the heartbeats turn to seconds Amalia looks back, wondering what she has done to silence him, if he's offended or angry or-
Oh.
The posture of a person sleeping is easy to discern. In a fluid moment Amalia rises, lightly as a bird and just as skittish. Should she wake him? Her hand hovers near his shoulder, hesitating, voice caught in her throat. She's already woken him once, and it's evident he needs the rest quite badly- that, and he doesn't seem to be getting it any other way.
Then what to do? She could probably lift him - he looks to be a delicate thing - but the intimacy of that feels insurmountable, and if he should wake up in her arms the girl doubts he'd be pleased. His wobbling body prevents more overthinking; gently Amalia grips Finn's shoulders, attempting to coax him forward so his back is against the log, seated in the sand beside her. "Finn... You can rest, just... Come sit down here, so you don't fall."
Oh.
The posture of a person sleeping is easy to discern. In a fluid moment Amalia rises, lightly as a bird and just as skittish. Should she wake him? Her hand hovers near his shoulder, hesitating, voice caught in her throat. She's already woken him once, and it's evident he needs the rest quite badly- that, and he doesn't seem to be getting it any other way.
Then what to do? She could probably lift him - he looks to be a delicate thing - but the intimacy of that feels insurmountable, and if he should wake up in her arms the girl doubts he'd be pleased. His wobbling body prevents more overthinking; gently Amalia grips Finn's shoulders, attempting to coax him forward so his back is against the log, seated in the sand beside her. "Finn... You can rest, just... Come sit down here, so you don't fall."
she is calm in the storm
and anxious in the quiet
and anxious in the quiet
