Amalia
the shield of safrin
"Are you going to eat?" Amalia asks, moving towards the table, her body tense as lilac coils into the gold of her hair. The chair scrapes ominously upon the stone floor, a sound that makes her wince a little as she settles down into it, picking up the spoon. "I'll bring you some of mine next time," she promises, before taking a bite.
Loren doesn't sit, instead leaning against the wall: another ominous sign, she thinks, along with the silenced Attuned bond. Swallowing down her half-mouthful of food, the girl wonders if perhaps this was a mistake. She winces when her apology is met with cool aloofness, the spoon long since abandoned in favor of rubbing uneasily over her wrist.
"For the way it happened," the Shield answers at last, dark eyes downcast at the floor by his feet. Glancing up, she tries to meet the Firebrand's eyes, her expression solemn. "I shouldn't have involved anyone else. Everything got out of hand so quickly... and I'm sorry."
Loren doesn't sit, instead leaning against the wall: another ominous sign, she thinks, along with the silenced Attuned bond. Swallowing down her half-mouthful of food, the girl wonders if perhaps this was a mistake. She winces when her apology is met with cool aloofness, the spoon long since abandoned in favor of rubbing uneasily over her wrist.
"For the way it happened," the Shield answers at last, dark eyes downcast at the floor by his feet. Glancing up, she tries to meet the Firebrand's eyes, her expression solemn. "I shouldn't have involved anyone else. Everything got out of hand so quickly... and I'm sorry."
she's just like the weather
can't hold her together
can't hold her together
