to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Considering he wasn’t the adventuring type, she snorted; the answer laden within those broad streaks of indifference. While she worked on her pathetic, poorly-drawn sketch, now adding cannons and sails to the masts, other little hallmarks of people and crew members aboard its wooden frame, she pondered. “I’d like to go somewhere I haven’t been before.” But there was no way through the mountains of the Draig. “Maybe we can go a long way round to Hak Etme,” and there Melita laughed – couldn’t imagine how long such a journey would take. Or how familiar, how wonderful, how enlightening, it could’ve been – a landscape much like the one she’d been born within.“But who knows with Jack,” she muttered – it depended on trips, necessities, things they were smuggling.
to be the sun
MELITA
