[ In the bright sprawl of the longest day, she speaks to people. New friends, old friends, strangers alike. Conversation flows like water between her fingers, slipping away as quickly as its gathered up. Under the fireworks display, when the horizon begins to dip into nighttime indigo, a voice stripped of tone asks an interesting question. It reminds her of home. ]
...Maybe. [ After all, resources are important things. Aerith cannot deny that fighting is an act of preservation, survival. Perhaps even love. ] They could use it for a lot of things. But... hope is a resource, too.
[ And what inspires hope better than a moment of peace, of celebration? Of what could come after the fight? ]
ii
...Maybe. [ After all, resources are important things. Aerith cannot deny that fighting is an act of preservation, survival. Perhaps even love. ] They could use it for a lot of things. But... hope is a resource, too.
[ And what inspires hope better than a moment of peace, of celebration? Of what could come after the fight? ]