Amalia;
As the young luxere regards her Amalia holds still, hoping to convey a nonthreatening air. There is something inherently soothing in it's presence, and the woman cannot help but think back to the red one, and the antler still on her bed. The leopard's heart ached for that wounded creature, just as it now aches for the raven haired girl, so similarly damaged, so obviously distressed. But animals are simpler to help than people, and Amalia is not a healer: she does not know how to mend a broken heart.
The brief silence is interrupted by an unlikely pair. Remi, as always, is jovial and light, the easy smile she has come to associate him with rising easily on his lips. And Isla is... Well, a unicorn. In her internment in the infirmary Amalia has become familiar with the Medic's transformation, though it remains unsettling to be ministered to by a horse. Now, as a leopard, another feeling grows: predatory, adversarial. This outlander who dared to take her mother's place, who kept her locked in this sterile hell, and now intrudes on the woman's woe-!
The woman stands and the leopard watches, onyx eyes wide and unblinking as she speaks her pain. The leopard cannot help but understand: she too has wrestled with death and loss this Long Night, suffered wounds far deeper than her skin. Still purring she approaches the girl, head lowered nonthreatening, hoping to be allowed to butt again her leg. A glare is passed to the unicorn: this is her cub now, and she will not suffer it to come to harm.
The brief silence is interrupted by an unlikely pair. Remi, as always, is jovial and light, the easy smile she has come to associate him with rising easily on his lips. And Isla is... Well, a unicorn. In her internment in the infirmary Amalia has become familiar with the Medic's transformation, though it remains unsettling to be ministered to by a horse. Now, as a leopard, another feeling grows: predatory, adversarial. This outlander who dared to take her mother's place, who kept her locked in this sterile hell, and now intrudes on the woman's woe-!
The woman stands and the leopard watches, onyx eyes wide and unblinking as she speaks her pain. The leopard cannot help but understand: she too has wrestled with death and loss this Long Night, suffered wounds far deeper than her skin. Still purring she approaches the girl, head lowered nonthreatening, hoping to be allowed to butt again her leg. A glare is passed to the unicorn: this is her cub now, and she will not suffer it to come to harm.
dry your smoke-stung eyes
you can see the light
you can see the light
