[Seasonal Event] free of the coliseums

amalia i'll light a f i r e in your new shoes There had been a time when Amalia made regular deliveries, her young and pensive face appearing on doorsteps, armed with baskets of bread and other baked goods. In the company of her mother, and later, alone, she deposited her wares around the domiciles, exchanging warm loaves wrapped in burlap for food, cloth, or fuel. These days it was harder - the world had changed, the people shifted, and some days the young baker found it hard to adapt alongside it. Without help deliveries had faltered and stalled, but lately she had begun to brave the cold once more, venturing out to make sure families and stores were well-provisioned for the upcoming Long Night. Her last stop was an unscheduled one. She had spotted Deimos around the domiciles over the past weeks, his familiar figure coming and going a point of reference for the girl. Since the day in the bakery when they'd massacred gourds Amalia had itched to approach him again, to offer more of the comforting sustenance which seemed to enlighten him, embolden him, but timidity and a lack of invitation held the wavering girl back. Loathe to impose but eager to engage, she warbled and waxed in indecision until finally it became too great to bear and, shouldering her parcel of daily deliveries, she determined today would be the day. It helped that her deliveries went smoothly, the venture through Sanctuary lit by stray luxere and warm smiles. His house was left until the end: she had seen him stacking firewood, and the action provided a handy excuse, a reason for her approach. With a deep inhale the girl strode forward, basket of bread held before her like a shield, a shy and hopeful smile pulling at her lips. "Hi, Deimos," Amalia called, her alto voice punctuated by a cloud of steam that crystallized into ice around her lashes. "Trade you a loaf for some of that fuel." ooc || let's see charks try and fail to write well in past tense, hmm