DELPHiA
Aoife. Remi's words made clear exactly who he meant. Though Delphia had never known the young girl, she had heard of her. "Or the child." she said in agreement, watching the Lullaby turn inward, his own melancholy near tangible in the air. It was something she struggled to understand, this deep sort of mourning that often came with the death of a person, particularly the young. To be with Mort was to experience pure joy and bliss for eternity, unburdened by mortal coils and strife. But that wasn't near so surprising as the threat that followed.
Delphia did not flinch or react, not at first. But slowly her brows furrowed - expression twisting with confusion. "But...why?" she asked gently. "You know she isn't there anymore. Why covet that which she no longer needs?" Aoife was most certainly held in Mort's embrace, a beloved child who was loved all the more for how brief their time was in Vi's realm. It was like clinging to shed hair or tears - the purpose had been served and they were no longer needed for existence.
Delphia did not flinch or react, not at first. But slowly her brows furrowed - expression twisting with confusion. "But...why?" she asked gently. "You know she isn't there anymore. Why covet that which she no longer needs?" Aoife was most certainly held in Mort's embrace, a beloved child who was loved all the more for how brief their time was in Vi's realm. It was like clinging to shed hair or tears - the purpose had been served and they were no longer needed for existence.
she has witchcraft in her lips
