Qeya River sloth

Amalia froze for a moment, eyes gazing upon the waterfall. Ears forward, listening as it cascaded down, down, and splashed at the bottom. Were it not so far down, and she would not fear her death, on a hot day she would jump from it, but she knew better. It was better to simply look, not jump. Though she wanted too.

Amalia smiled. So then we are related? It was both a question and a statement. Family trees were confusing at the best of times, and she had only heard bits and pieces. She had heard it all secondhand. She had never met her lovely aunt that so many seemed to like, and that her great grandfather had adored.