you drew memories in my mind I could never erase
painted colors in my heart I could never replace
You can still cook for people- but for who? Still, Amalia smiles faintly at Ronin's reassurance, flushed from speaking so much and with fervor. She lets her gaze stay on the people of the market, the hustle and bustle of their daily lives, the way they talk and laugh and smile. It's a reminder of what she's doing this for, what benefit peace will bring.
They make it worth it, she thinks.
"You can still paint," the girl retorts gently, dark eyes slipping back over to her friend. As for training starting in the morning? "Okay- but I'm not going to live there or anything," Amalia clarifies quickly, wrinkling her nose. "I want to train with the Dragoons, be one. Especially if it means I'll wind up smelling like you all the time." With this joke she leaps away, expecting some kind of retaliation.
They make it worth it, she thinks.
"You can still paint," the girl retorts gently, dark eyes slipping back over to her friend. As for training starting in the morning? "Okay- but I'm not going to live there or anything," Amalia clarifies quickly, wrinkling her nose. "I want to train with the Dragoons, be one. Especially if it means I'll wind up smelling like you all the time." With this joke she leaps away, expecting some kind of retaliation.
meet me where the falling stars live
Amalia
