Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Melita dealt with trauma by ignoring it completely. Not a healthy alternative, but when it was so deeply embedded in one’s bones, when they’d seen destruction and demise time and time again, it left her with a numb, detached sort of ambience as she persisted through Torchline streets, routes, and passages. Her mother had died sacrificing herself for her daughters as false gods rampaged. Her sister had perished amidst more demolition and peril. The Honeybee knew and understood the stakes well –
But it didn’t mean she wanted to linger in it.
Her quest was the perfect excuse to traverse away from the heartache and wreckage. Though she might’ve used her sky boat, the dragon travel was just as handy, and from there she tried not to look down at the ways the world had changed and altered – how the floodlines warped, how they seethed and seized and wrapped, and how desperately she wanted to go destroy the pinnacle of its outreach laden within the sea.
“Rock sliders,” she nodded, a little less enthused and more hollowed. Content with the magma, the heat, the laden and residual fire in her belly, she stalked forward, snagging at weaponry and glad she’d left Fangorn and Sila out of harm’s way, back home, where they could rest after cleaning and tending with her. “What’re you looking for?”
But it didn’t mean she wanted to linger in it.
Her quest was the perfect excuse to traverse away from the heartache and wreckage. Though she might’ve used her sky boat, the dragon travel was just as handy, and from there she tried not to look down at the ways the world had changed and altered – how the floodlines warped, how they seethed and seized and wrapped, and how desperately she wanted to go destroy the pinnacle of its outreach laden within the sea.
“Rock sliders,” she nodded, a little less enthused and more hollowed. Content with the magma, the heat, the laden and residual fire in her belly, she stalked forward, snagging at weaponry and glad she’d left Fangorn and Sila out of harm’s way, back home, where they could rest after cleaning and tending with her. “What’re you looking for?”
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
