Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
There were only a few indignant squawks before the beasts began to fall, one after the other. Some Sila caught in her maw, others Fangorn bobbled after, on promises of portions later, and the Cheshire grin enveloping her features only diminished for a ‘whoop’ of victory. Snagging her arrows back, she was immediately distracted by a rush from the bushes – hands instinctively returning to her weapon with a tight grasp –
Only to whip her head around and see it was a younger woman, rampaging from the void.
Blinking, brow arching, as if she was trying to figure out how the youth had been huddled up in there, all the restless entanglements flickered away the moment a compliment was extended to her. “Oh, thanks. Ummm, since I was pretty young,” and trying not to die in another land. “What about you?” her head motioning towards the weapon in the stranger’s hands – trying to parse through appearances, uncertain if she’d seen the girl before.
Only to whip her head around and see it was a younger woman, rampaging from the void.
Blinking, brow arching, as if she was trying to figure out how the youth had been huddled up in there, all the restless entanglements flickered away the moment a compliment was extended to her. “Oh, thanks. Ummm, since I was pretty young,” and trying not to die in another land. “What about you?” her head motioning towards the weapon in the stranger’s hands – trying to parse through appearances, uncertain if she’d seen the girl before.
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
