Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Shrugging her shoulders at his goal, whether through pettiness or spite, she figured it was better than an assortment of things that he’d once tried to achieve. So even if there was some imminent failure pressing and looming, it wouldn’t be so blunt, painful, and tangible.
Sipping down multitudes of water, and placing her glass back down, she inspected the rest of her plate, before cutting another piece of steak. As the knife slid between meat and fibers, she listened – to the strangeness, to the bizarre qualities rampaging through the Grounds. “Yeah. Like…you can’t erase that sense of dread.” Which Jack hadn’t understood, but she knew Sunjata would – given how many damned things had happened there. “Feels haunted, almost.” By many, many things.
Sipping down multitudes of water, and placing her glass back down, she inspected the rest of her plate, before cutting another piece of steak. As the knife slid between meat and fibers, she listened – to the strangeness, to the bizarre qualities rampaging through the Grounds. “Yeah. Like…you can’t erase that sense of dread.” Which Jack hadn’t understood, but she knew Sunjata would – given how many damned things had happened there. “Feels haunted, almost.” By many, many things.
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
