Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Spun into silence, a rarity, she pretended to be concentrating solely on the form of her newest crown, intermingling and wiring together the snapped stems and long blades of grass, weaving the sprigs until they’d fashioned and cobbled into something formidable. Only when he began did her gaze follow and track the movement – clearly waiting for something. No reaction at all would’ve been disappointing.
What she didn’t expect in all the sudden ruckus and confusion, was a god damned bird to give her little ploy away. Her jaw dropped, eyes widening, brows arching and staying as her stare increased; for not only had the avian tried to snag at the worm, but then…got stuck there.
“Wow,” was all she could say at first, staying perfectly still as it flapped against his head. “Maybe I was wrong. Now that is perfect.” And then she burst into giggles, easily rolling over into the grass, laying on her side to watch the spectacle.
What she didn’t expect in all the sudden ruckus and confusion, was a god damned bird to give her little ploy away. Her jaw dropped, eyes widening, brows arching and staying as her stare increased; for not only had the avian tried to snag at the worm, but then…got stuck there.
“Wow,” was all she could say at first, staying perfectly still as it flapped against his head. “Maybe I was wrong. Now that is perfect.” And then she burst into giggles, easily rolling over into the grass, laying on her side to watch the spectacle.
I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
