[SE] If I hit the bottom will I break?

melita

and she recklessly plays with matches

The Honeybee, on the other hand, had none of the trepidations but some of the misgivings – potentially for what laid ahead. Melita wasn’t good with grief. In fact, she avoided most of it by pushing it downwards into her ribcage and fighting it off with smoke and fire and fumes; anything to get the taste of heartache and loss out of her mouth. Instead, she oriented towards goals and fragments of potentials, on not wasting the opportunities her mother and survival had given her. On amplifying every moment until she was just a portion of ignition, ready to kindle and set aflame.

Goose would luck out, as it was, she’d been drifting around the coastline, eyeballing skyboats coming in the port. She probably could’ve just picked him up herself – but maybe he’d wanted to make the journey on his own on some wild-schemed notion. The dog found her as she hummed, swinging her legs on a bench and studying passersby, plotting out lines across rooftops when the bark angled in her direction. “Hey Goose,” she murmured, greeting him with ample familiarity and hands to scratch at ears. “I brought you some ducks,” as promised, reaching into her pocket to produce one that almost certainly resembled a banshee, squeezing it so it gave an outright screech and scared several inhabitants (before they rolled their eyes).

So while Fangorn bobbled behind her and Sila rested on her shoulder, she followed the dog along towards the dock, shielding her eyes from the sun while constantly teasing the canine, seeing who could spot who first.