Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
It might not have been an ideal place to meet, but Melita counted the Undercroft, with its unwinding tomes, and dry, underground aspects, far more secluded than anywhere else they might have managed, save for their own homes. There were several restless entities flickering through her mind, and after Vox’s broadcast, they were a whole lot murkier. A compelling, maybe, just as she’d had in the Feverlands, to hiss, scratch, and tear at the way the Family bullied and consumed.
But her uncle had been one of their victims too.
She slid into one of the seats at a wooden table, pretending to be looking at a few books about the last war, as if she hadn’t lived it herself, before placing her large bag upon its surface. Full of gifts and goodies; hunted down in other regions so she didn’t have to thwart with the idea of Sunjata already having anything and everything. While Fangorn nestled underneath her chair, Sila hovered nearby, her tail only lightly touching the veneer. Given who the Honeybee was, the blunt course of her speech rampaged first and foremost, the only refinements reserved for others who might be listening. “So…,” her fingers skirted, tapping against the table grains. “Congrats seem to be in order.”
But her uncle had been one of their victims too.
She slid into one of the seats at a wooden table, pretending to be looking at a few books about the last war, as if she hadn’t lived it herself, before placing her large bag upon its surface. Full of gifts and goodies; hunted down in other regions so she didn’t have to thwart with the idea of Sunjata already having anything and everything. While Fangorn nestled underneath her chair, Sila hovered nearby, her tail only lightly touching the veneer. Given who the Honeybee was, the blunt course of her speech rampaged first and foremost, the only refinements reserved for others who might be listening. “So…,” her fingers skirted, tapping against the table grains. “Congrats seem to be in order.”
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
