frey
Frey shrugs against Amalia, a magical eight ball: answer unclear, try again later. "She created it knowing where she was. Knowing she could not leave." They said finally.
What happens to the world now?
Frey stands, a radiant being in a world of chaos. They are composed, unrattled. Their gaze falls somewhere near Amalia's navel before rising against to her eyes, peering into the core of her, slinking around her ribs and the cockles of her heart before pulling their gaze up and out.
"Depends what you all decide to do with it, hon." They reply candidly, and then in a blink, they are gone, leaving Amalia with questions and clothes.
What happens to the world now?
Frey stands, a radiant being in a world of chaos. They are composed, unrattled. Their gaze falls somewhere near Amalia's navel before rising against to her eyes, peering into the core of her, slinking around her ribs and the cockles of her heart before pulling their gaze up and out.
"Depends what you all decide to do with it, hon." They reply candidly, and then in a blink, they are gone, leaving Amalia with questions and clothes.
