not everything is a poem

The Honeybee

I believe in holding grudges
I'll heal in hell

Her next arrow silenced the bounty of screams. Segmenting directly into the echo shark, it ceased entirely, before buoying and bubbling up to the surface. She took her time though, glancing over at Kiada again, as if silently analyzing something, before shrugging her shoulders. “Fair enough.”

Then she parsed her way off the bridge and down towards the embankment, light movements assuring she’d be out along the water – the delicate lacings of her anklet ensuring she’d float along the surface with little issue – as she went to snag her newfound carcass and prize. Glancing upwards at the Ancient, she arched her brow. “You want any of these?” Most of the echoing creatures congregating nearby now were puzzled, perplexed, and quiet, which would make for a great opportunity to snag another.

Pay a little more attention to the healing power
of incandescent rage

Melita