Amaranth Desire: Going Full Paragon

There's something funny about confidence. 

The most easily angered people in the world are not those who lack it entirely, nor are they the completely sure. The former tend to think getting mad is pointless because it doesn't matter in the end anyway, the latter tend to be aware of their own strengths and limitations enough to not be bothered by things they shouldn't be.

Amy wasn't entirely sure which of the two extremes she should currently be at regarding this situation, but she was utterly confident that she was at one of them.

Her semblance was still active, so her perception was moving a little faster than everyone else's--she heard the Survival instructor's introduction in slow motion, had time to let her heightened hearing absorb every dulcet detail of Estelle's Mistralese accent. Amy wasn't in survival, but that didn't really matter at the moment. 

It put her at ease, actually.

Judging by the way Estelle held herself and the barely perceptible tick upwards in its intensity as she got closer, it wasn't supposed to. Her grip--which was never that tight to begin with, only leverage made it difficult to evade--slackened as she got closer, and by the time Ben tapped her on the wrist, Amy'd already let go, only still resting her hand there in thought until contact.

Making Lauren squirm was fun while it lasted, but the reasoning part of her mind came back into control and her feathers started to smooth down.

Regardless of how it all turned out, she and Estelle were radically different in terms of appearance, appeal, and demeanor. Any pissing contest here wouldn't be productive, nor would it mean anything.

They should move on.

She glanced over at the Lauren-Ben conglomerate, a slight smile falling on her lips. "I'm not quite sure Ben agrees that this is a safe space, Lorena. Well, not for him at least."