[Training] bitter and better

After rampaging along with Flora, Melita had flown the rest of the way on her little Firecracker, intending to have some measure of downtime and peace between the other tasks she had sorted out for herself. Even though she’d perished momentarily, the Honeybee still had a sudden multitude of tasks to be sorted, moreso than before, and she’d already started making a list while she sat along the Last Step.

Unbothered by its sudden drop, the demigod swung her legs back and forth into the light breeze, while consulting with Fangorn (who was dangling his vines over the edge too) and Sila (who had decided to soar underneath, back and forth, afraid one of the others would fall). Long scrawls curled across the paper, some with question marks (she still didn’t know who Hawthorn was) and pondering how far invisibility could get her. “Think I could get them all done in like…a couple of days,” she said off-handedly, waving the charcoal within the air as if it were simplistic and not requiring some thought and tactical work.

melita

then I became the fire

yet my blood renders me a King

Sah was feeling mildly better, at least for the moment. The guilt and grief rose and abated like the tide. It seemed like each conversation with a loved one helped, but once he was left to his own devices, the darker emotions all came rushing back. He was at least a far cry from the near panic attack he'd had at the Tournament.

At the present moment he found himself sitting at a campfire with his companions. They'd just completed a successful hunt and the wolves were chowing down on their share of the deer as Sah roasted his over an open flame. The Wild Thunder sighed as he eyed the sky above him, letting some of the tension bleed from his shoulders.

Sah

One couldn’t possibly say if Melita had recovered from her death experience, or simply been revitalized in new and brightening considerations. A darker plunge, a rally from renewal, and a scrape into every tempestuous edge lingering in her soul might’ve been a more accurate presumption.

So when she spotted Sah further afield, roasting on a damned campfire like nothing had happened, it reawakened multitudes.

It tasted like anger; this wave of blistering bombardments suddenly varnishing through her mouth. Koa’s story of potential mageglass. The way her chest was puckered and scarred; lightning struck and bolted. The moments where she could’ve sworn she saw or felt or heard her sister again, laughing in the breeze.

With nothing but impulsive and intrusive thoughts, she snagged at her bow, and the sparking quiver eternally resting on her back. Fuck logic, she figured. He could have a taste of his own medicine. Then she launched an arrow, clean and sharp and true, to split into the ground right beside him.

melita

then I became the fire