[SE] battered shore

Melita

Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down

Mildly restless, feeling the need to move, she turned back towards fronds and leaves, ferns that grew wildly towards a rampant sun not present; dipping and crouching to grab Fangorn in her arms, before wandering further into the midst. The drive and need to explore prevailed over her other feral nuances, and if this was Peter was still going to try anything, she had other methods of sieging and parrying. At his inquiry towards his husband, the youth tilted her head vaguely, a host of other memories flickering and filtering back into place. It felt like lifetimes ago; when there seemed to be less disaster and more time for those moments of repose. Or maybe she was just rhapsodizing, and the truth was that there had never been too many sanctums. “I taught him how to use a bow.” At least, rudimentary efforts. There hadn’t been a time or place for follow-up lessons, and he’d seemed more apt to shoot things with those other weapons at his disposal. “Made him one too.” She assumed, based on prior thoughts, he’d never used it.

The honeybee turned her head back over her shoulder at his next question though; brows furrowing slightly, the confusion evident on her face. “Extended family. The daughter of your brother or sister.” Perhaps he’d never had the experience or known reaches of those bonds. She twisted back around, and opted to let that go – it wasn’t worth digging into for either of them.

Instead, she exuded her senses over the area, and Fangorn pulsed in her hands – as if something was looming, or hiding, nearby.

to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun