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He liked this buzz and this noise, but it was crowded and hot, and he felt as though he couldn't see the sky overhead. This was the city of Rabanastre- its white buildings, when he looked up to them, had no character or face and it seemed as though everyone was anonymous. Humes looked at him with marked interest, wondering with mixed expressions if he was some surreal apparition. His mask was like a shot of fire; one hand, he didn't care, the other, he was starting to feel a little self-concious...
Amadi didn't know what to do next, and was half-dwelling on it as he walked through the streets. Half in conciousness and half walking through dreams, he tried to recall the places where Humes gathered- but that wouldn't help, not really. He didn't think he'd be able to find anybody who knew anything about what was going on, and indeed, these people seemed blind to it. Some of them were like children, but others looked like their faces were worn with care- the desolation had crept up all over the country, it seemed. Maybe he could find someplace to sleep, cause he felt like his legs would buckle beneath him. And he had to clean up the wounds he'd gotten out in the Giza plains.
A slight breeze, but nothing more. Some noise struck him hard- he looked up in panic. A sky ship was roaring as it ripped through the heavens leaving in the smoke behind the hopes of its journey. There was a certain beauty to this place. It was very different from Jahara. To imagine that the King and Queen were missing...it seemed a vague ghost notion, as he looked around.
But aside from all the worry, the worst part of it was, that he was satisfied to just walk along and think about it- and see the city, and its everyday rhythyms. With all the interesting things here, he might not even get to the nitty gritty of what he needed to accomplish. Oh well...
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The Worst Part of It Was
