Do you think we’ll be here that long? [There’s no real trepidation or fear in Alia’s voice – merely a sort of gentle curiosity. Time is fairly meaningless to her, in truth, and she fears the concept of an extended visit to Saltburnt very little.
The frogs gently teem, bright dark eyes, somehow never straying too far towards the edges of Alia’s gently cupped palms. She smiles down at her handful, then lowers it carefully back to the waters edge, then beneath, sending tiny frogs scattering.] They must, yes. Perhaps they guard the names until they are reclaimed. It’s quite kind of them, don’t you think?
[A gentle swish of her hands to clean away the last of the mud and Alia raises her eyes at last, lets them take in the shape of the stranger.] You look well, for once-dead. Was it unpleasant?
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The frogs gently teem, bright dark eyes, somehow never straying too far towards the edges of Alia’s gently cupped palms. She smiles down at her handful, then lowers it carefully back to the waters edge, then beneath, sending tiny frogs scattering.] They must, yes. Perhaps they guard the names until they are reclaimed. It’s quite kind of them, don’t you think?
[A gentle swish of her hands to clean away the last of the mud and Alia raises her eyes at last, lets them take in the shape of the stranger.] You look well, for once-dead. Was it unpleasant?