Ghosts were nothing new in her life; she had plenty to pick from. Instead, Melita had quietly hovered around this season much in the stead of wraiths and specters, meandering where she could and lost along the parallels. The unknown slipped and grasped, toyed and vexed, until all the restless bounties curled into her fingers, adjusting on the handles of the lanterns she carried. They always seemed to be in abundance, and though she hadn’t had to make any new ones in quite some time, the weight of them remained the same.
Fangorn and Sila hovered along her ankles as they drifted amongst the waterways. The cool stream was a balm to her fiery heart, and she began lining hers along the modest rivulet too, crouching so her mother’s, sister’s, Rexanna’s, Bastien’s, Haai’s (she wouldn’t forget her uncle’s companion) and a multitude of others could collect and reflect.
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[say]Melita places lanterns for her mother, sister, Rexanna, Bastien, and Haai.[/say]
Fangorn and Sila hovered along her ankles as they drifted amongst the waterways. The cool stream was a balm to her fiery heart, and she began lining hers along the modest rivulet too, crouching so her mother’s, sister’s, Rexanna’s, Bastien’s, Haai’s (she wouldn’t forget her uncle’s companion) and a multitude of others could collect and reflect.
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[say]Melita places lanterns for her mother, sister, Rexanna, Bastien, and Haai.[/say]
