Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
She watched; a rally of her gilded eyes going back and forth from her uncle and to the nasty little slider conforming to coal and ash, narrowing on occasion in brief ruminations and inspections. And perhaps these moments were the hardest part – the great and vast unknown, full of trials and tribulations and nothing to show for it but their constant movement in striving to alleviate the bleeding maelstroms. Maybe in time they’d look back on these instances and shake their heads, because ignorance had always been a folly – but the uncertainty weighed too heavily and the damages too great. All reactions had been segmented for restoration and renewal – because what else was to be done?
Though the current plotline had her glance widening, settling on Sunjata briefly. “You met her? What did she want?” Information? Opportunity? “And what if her abilities aren’t turned off in the Refuge? Then what’re you supposed to do?” Take one for the team? Be just as injured?
Though the current plotline had her glance widening, settling on Sunjata briefly. “You met her? What did she want?” Information? Opportunity? “And what if her abilities aren’t turned off in the Refuge? Then what’re you supposed to do?” Take one for the team? Be just as injured?
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
