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Amara was kneeling down and picking the roots of a thin wiry bush that shown little white flowers blossoming on the outside. The plant was very weak as it already had been and harvesting the roots served to be a relatively easy task for her as long as she was careful not to kill the plant overall, which could only be accomplished by uprooting the main branch. Amara's hands were scratched and wounded from the thorns of various other plants that she had claimed valuable spoils from. But the blood mattered not to her because she seemed to act normal even with dirt infected her wounds. She would be using many of these plants in her medicines and panaceas that she sold on the market for a fair price.

The crunch of a small leaf signaled to Amara that someone coming and they weren't too far off from what she could hear. Her ears twitched with another sound of the next step and from that information heard she could determine the pace of the creature of being that was near, Amara dropped the root and dashed into the bushed with such swift, agile speed that even the sound of her steps could be heard upon the ground in a silent, yet tender way. She was watchful from behind the bushed and she drew one of her blades at the ready for possible protection from whatever it was that was that came her way.

Amara crawled carefully on the ground keeping low with the bushes to see what exactly was coming. She used her nails to gently move a single leave out of the way so that she may see the creature. Her eyes remained the same nor did her face change in reaction to the beast that she had been in the proximity of. Amara would have never thought to see a god anywhere near her, or even dream of one for that matter. She looked in awe of the beast for a few moments and then whirled around so that her back was to the bushes.
This was one of those moments where she had no care nor the heart to praise a divine figure that she had seen and convey the tale without being mocked for it in the end. Her sin had put her in no position to ask for redemption from the gods.

Amara walked cautiously from out behind the bushed she slowly walked towards the god and kept a good 12 feet away from him in case he were to trick her into something that might lead to her end. She was very prudent in the way she walked towards him, like a child willing to steal sweets after nightfall, like the ground was made of glass. Amara looked up at the sky and blinked twice. All she saw were tiny specs of glitter scattered amongst a great sky of dark blue. She could see no pleasure in looking at such a thing, but there were actually some that were comforted by the great sky above. She could not tell how this night varied from any other night. And even with this in mind she slightly nodded her head in hopes of that being the correct answer.

Amara didn't speak, for the soul purpose that she could not. She walked over to his side thinking that perhaps it was the very perspective of where one stood, had affected their vision of the night sky. She looked up at the sky, once more seeing no change and it still didn't appease her in any way. She couldn't understand why beings were so fixated on the sky. Perhaps they too didn't see anything special in it either and only stared up at it to try to figure out why. Regardless of the given opinion, Amara looked over at the great being and gave him a look that could be read only through her eyes as if she knew something had troubled him.

It seemed inevitable but, Amara could do nothing but look at the god to give him an answer. She pointed to her neck using her 3 middle fingers on her hand to signify that she cannot speak. She lowered her hand and sat down with him in a respective position with her leg beneath her. One could easily tell that she was frowning even when her face was in a natural position because of the direction her gaze was fixated in and her eyelids seemed to droop in such a way that at first glance she would have seemed tired.

Had she the voice to do so Amara would have scoffed and blamed everything for her troubles but there was nobody to blame for all her misery but herself. She was after all at fault for being who she was, wasn't she? The only way she could hardly speak was by speaking with her eyes. It wasn't easy and not many got the reading correct but it was the only way she could communicate until she could think up a system of speech.
Amara used her hand which was black with dirt, blood both of her own and from someone else. Her hand was otherwise identified as a demon's claw and only contributed to the demon that she was seen as. She drew a picture in the dirt infront of her with her nail. It was a circle that normally represents 'life' or 'everything'. In this case it was everything.