melita
Maybe it was a rarer thing in Caido to not have multiple near-death experiences; she didn’t know the counter on most. And while hers had been temporary, it had left its own keen sense of a mark; emblazoned across her chest, under her clothes, lighting struck and centered around her heart. Not a great aspect or reminder. Normally the youth didn’t mind her scars. This one ached with a little too much vitriol.
Or maybe that was just her, gauging the surroundings, the sights, the sounds, while fighting back the fickle, temperamental smoke in her lungs. She would’ve been hard-pressed and vicious had her uncle even tried to protect or hover around her, so she was grateful he was holding it away, and she wandered along a kiosk of sweets, figuring this would be a grand opportunity to shop for multiple people.
While they discussed death and vengeance, as if that were normal. “Hm. I think I’d like to do more than break Sah’s nose.” Sighing, she shook her head, fingers snatching at a bag of caramels and adding it to her palms. “Ludo says the world is too serious – I think I’m supposed to help make it…not? Is it chaotic to beat someone?”
salvation doesn't look like light
