Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
Feet bare, soft along the sand, her strides were able to elongate in her quick, swift movements without the barrage of things, items, necessities in order to persist in between sickness and survival. Despite the comment on the cloud being fine, she still watched; half-curious, half-tempted. But the news about Remi doing better, after the events at the meeting, and amongst the ailments, churned her attention back to the present – even as her hand hovered over the nimbus, fingers itching to touch the surface. “I’m glad he’s okay,” a truth, a smile lingering again in the corners of his mouth. “Nate is-,” and she stopped there – because they’d all seen it amongst the gathered. He wasn’t any better.
A shake of her head followed, crimson hair flickering and bounding, uncontrolled, untamed, just as restless as the rest of her, while they walked and talked. “I haven’t yet. Milo and I found some other place though. It reminded me a little of the Temple.” Her hands and arms extended outward, before her figure, as if to reveal some key measurements. “There were big, black stones that looked like pews. And a basin in the center. But nothing there.” Nothing they could utilize to help their friends and family, anyway. There were other enigmatic qualities to the threshold, but it would have to be left for later. "What were the springs like?"
The news about Remi stepping down was foreign to her though, and she stuttered a step, lost in a multitude of thoughts, what they could convey, what they could mean. “Oh. Are you guys planning on going somewhere then?” Or did Remi simply not want to reign anymore? And what did that mean for the rest of them? Something about the notions made her brows furrow, a common frustration boiling down right between her pulse and veins; wondering if this was just another thing a certain individual had neglected to tell her. Surely the Flood would’ve known. “Has he thought about who to put in?”
A shake of her head followed, crimson hair flickering and bounding, uncontrolled, untamed, just as restless as the rest of her, while they walked and talked. “I haven’t yet. Milo and I found some other place though. It reminded me a little of the Temple.” Her hands and arms extended outward, before her figure, as if to reveal some key measurements. “There were big, black stones that looked like pews. And a basin in the center. But nothing there.” Nothing they could utilize to help their friends and family, anyway. There were other enigmatic qualities to the threshold, but it would have to be left for later. "What were the springs like?"
The news about Remi stepping down was foreign to her though, and she stuttered a step, lost in a multitude of thoughts, what they could convey, what they could mean. “Oh. Are you guys planning on going somewhere then?” Or did Remi simply not want to reign anymore? And what did that mean for the rest of them? Something about the notions made her brows furrow, a common frustration boiling down right between her pulse and veins; wondering if this was just another thing a certain individual had neglected to tell her. Surely the Flood would’ve known. “Has he thought about who to put in?”
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
