Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Their little scouting enterprise turned out quite fruitful; Thalassa ’s northern stretch revealed further multitudes of the Hanging Tree’s bark, purple-hued and once vicious. Better yet, as she ventured into the mud, the Ancient wouldn’t find herself stuck or eerily consumed by the quagmire. She’d be able to pluck it out with no issue, and head back to add it to the pile.
Melita faced much the same, her skipping and frolicking towards the western area allowed her to scoop up branches and bramble laden with the filth; gleefully content on blowing the shit sky high when they had the opportunity.
Rhiannon ’s exploits towards the east would unfurl further mayhem – but desperately out of her reach, floating along a portion of mud. She could attempt to get it out herself, or call for her compatriots for reinforcements (well within her sight).
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Melita and Thalassa have added their finds to the burn pile. Rhiannon has found some, but can’t quite get to it. Please let Rhiannon post first to determine next movements.
Melita faced much the same, her skipping and frolicking towards the western area allowed her to scoop up branches and bramble laden with the filth; gleefully content on blowing the shit sky high when they had the opportunity.
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Melita and Thalassa have added their finds to the burn pile. Rhiannon has found some, but can’t quite get to it. Please let Rhiannon post first to determine next movements.
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
