Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
“Sure,” she shrugged. The Honeybee had never been a person dishing out advice, curating wisdom, or expelling it – her blunt, straightforward, and concise mannerisms didn’t always win other individuals over (which again – she didn’t really care). But she wasn’t certain how Maea could help; Melita’s plans were often spur of the moment, embracing alterations and living amongst bedlam kinda thing.
Patting the soil as the seed was all nestled within, she went to grab an empty container from the skyboat, retrieving a little canteen and skipping back over. Her brow arched at the sentiments of ‘boring’ and ‘forgotten how to have fun’, because gods, that sounded like a fuckin’ drag of a time. “What do you mean – you don’t do anything that amuses you?” Gods, what’d she do all day then? “What’s stopping you from having a good time?”
Patting the soil as the seed was all nestled within, she went to grab an empty container from the skyboat, retrieving a little canteen and skipping back over. Her brow arched at the sentiments of ‘boring’ and ‘forgotten how to have fun’, because gods, that sounded like a fuckin’ drag of a time. “What do you mean – you don’t do anything that amuses you?” Gods, what’d she do all day then? “What’s stopping you from having a good time?”
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
