Amalia
the archangel
As Ray descends into the water Amalia can only watch and wait, anxiety a stone so heavy in her gut she's surprised it doesn't drag her down as well. Can you talk without shifting? If not, tug on my tail. The flickering light from her tail and the sphere cast odd shadows up against the surface of the pond; never before has she so acutely felt the loss of her aquatic shifts. All she can do is wait and watch.
Down below, the sphere of blue will continue to pulse in its cruel black cage. If anyone hears Ray they do not respond. As she draws nearer she will be able to discern that the tendrils are static, long, and metallic. And their shape is almost finger like.
Down below, the sphere of blue will continue to pulse in its cruel black cage. If anyone hears Ray they do not respond. As she draws nearer she will be able to discern that the tendrils are static, long, and metallic. And their shape is almost finger like.
you drew memories in my mind
i could never erase
you painted colors in my heart
i could never replace
