Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
of the women they burned alive
Presuming everything was finished, the youth sought out her own armaments. Between her and Fangorn, the ones she’d volleyed and ricocheted against the rock were restored and put to order, nestled amongst her quiver with the assortment of others. She figured she’d be on her way, and these bizarre circumstances would be nothing at all: something to either reflect on later, or give no sentiments towards. Just Maea in the moonlight – warnings extended and brazen.
So when the question, the notion, of a favor passed through, the honeybee’s brows both arched. Her eyes went to the broken arrow, and then back to the Ascended’s face – hoping some rhyme, some reason, would parse through. When no explanation came, and her hand hadn’t gone yet to accept it, the girl only uttered forth her inquiry. “What for?” For forgiveness? For rebellion? For ties and tethers gone, slashed, and likely broken, with her choice to Ascend? “What is it supposed to represent?” No toy, no figurine, no amusements – just a snapped and splintered weapon.
So when the question, the notion, of a favor passed through, the honeybee’s brows both arched. Her eyes went to the broken arrow, and then back to the Ascended’s face – hoping some rhyme, some reason, would parse through. When no explanation came, and her hand hadn’t gone yet to accept it, the girl only uttered forth her inquiry. “What for?” For forgiveness? For rebellion? For ties and tethers gone, slashed, and likely broken, with her choice to Ascend? “What is it supposed to represent?” No toy, no figurine, no amusements – just a snapped and splintered weapon.
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
to bring a whole wildfire to life
