our history of silence

Amalia

the shield of safrin

Jyoti is swift to fly down to Astra, greeting her friend with a warm bubble of starlight and a low hum of pleasure. Amalia watches the companions fondly, her expression bittersweet and perhaps a little envious. As advanced as they are given their human bonds, companions still retain a level of animal innocence that the girl longs for, a simplicity in their needs and motivations that the anxious baker has never felt.

For her part she returns Loren's smile, though the expression lacks in luster. "I can't remember the last time I saw you outside your shift," the girl remarks teasingly, sinking into the offered seat and placing her hands in her lap. "Tea sounds great." She inhales a breath, and for a moment it feels this might just be a pleasant meeting between friends, without any world-altering stakes on the line.

Ha. Ha.

The pretenses drop, fading as they do beneath the weight she carries so readily. Leaning forward, her elbows on the table, Amalia looks up at the Firebrand through tired dark eyes. "So. Tell me."

you are slowly growing

but you are still growing

and that is enough