Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
At Isla’s agreement, Melita seemingly grew about three inches taller – very poised, dignified, like a lady, rather than a rampant chaos gremlin. She could hear the soldier fumbling through his papers, stammering and muttering to himself, and the healer seemed to be making a quick exit; the Honeybee was inclined to do the same. Especially at an invitation for food. “Mm. Good luck, sir,” and she gave a salute that likely came across as mocking, before walking a few steps away. “Sure. That sounds great.”
And she absolutely wasn’t busy; she’d already caused enough acts over the last few days – covering her tracks and disappearing for a bit seemed a good excuse to ensure she could return seasons later, and do more shit. “Anything you wanted in particular?”
And she absolutely wasn’t busy; she’d already caused enough acts over the last few days – covering her tracks and disappearing for a bit seemed a good excuse to ensure she could return seasons later, and do more shit. “Anything you wanted in particular?”
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
