Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Her eyebrows rose again at the insistence of waiting - she ended up laughing on the spur of the moment. “Good. I’m glad.” The words I’m proud of you didn’t quite make it out into the air, but there was a nestling of understanding instilled there – that he was trying, truly striving now, even if the bar was incredibly low. Actually thinking, actually pausing, actually giving time and space to decisions was a massive step forward. The honeybee didn’t reflect any further, not with the current movements and motions, but there was a nod following through, a modicum of comprehension flickering with the flames and embers.
A satisfied glimmer of a smirk sparked on her features as her fist found its mark. The huff of air was enough, and she wanted more, for the sake of so many others who might’ve yearned for the same. She ducked as the onslaught of his fist came cruising towards her shoulder, could feel the motion shift over her muscle and bone, glancing off; a breath or two following through. That’d been incredibly close.
So the youth rallied, attempting to launch another punch from her vantage point along his side.
A satisfied glimmer of a smirk sparked on her features as her fist found its mark. The huff of air was enough, and she wanted more, for the sake of so many others who might’ve yearned for the same. She ducked as the onslaught of his fist came cruising towards her shoulder, could feel the motion shift over her muscle and bone, glancing off; a breath or two following through. That’d been incredibly close.
So the youth rallied, attempting to launch another punch from her vantage point along his side.
I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
