Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
Anger and ire were usually her first lines of defense – easier that way, to hide everything else under her veil of abhorrence and malice. Then it could devolve into violence if prolonged, another fond habit of hers. But right now none of that seemed to fit the situation, so she ended up glaring at the fabric as though it’d offended her, before looping thread through the needle, eyes narrowed in concentration as she started along a sleeve that was likely going to look lopsided as fuck.
“There was last time,” she muttered around a stitch made far too large, before she ended up unwinding it and starting again. It was going to be a long, arduous process at this rate, and if she could recall, the masquerade before had similar results in her lopsided and pathetic attempts at robes. Maybe she should’ve just reused that one. "Not sure if it's going to be the same though." And Ludo hadn't told her.
Her head tilted towards the apple cider suddenly nearby, the smell drifting into her senses. “Thanks.” Once she tackled this portion, maybe she’d use the drink as a gods damned reward. But Goose was a distraction all on his own, and for a moment the Honeybee considered leaving Iskra to be tackled and thwarted by the dog, taking a purposefully long time to decide. In the end, she whistled at the canine, while Fangorn and Sila scattered. “Oooh, c’mere Goose, I’ve got something for you!” To which she chucked one of her companions’ many treats from her pocket.
“There was last time,” she muttered around a stitch made far too large, before she ended up unwinding it and starting again. It was going to be a long, arduous process at this rate, and if she could recall, the masquerade before had similar results in her lopsided and pathetic attempts at robes. Maybe she should’ve just reused that one. "Not sure if it's going to be the same though." And Ludo hadn't told her.
Her head tilted towards the apple cider suddenly nearby, the smell drifting into her senses. “Thanks.” Once she tackled this portion, maybe she’d use the drink as a gods damned reward. But Goose was a distraction all on his own, and for a moment the Honeybee considered leaving Iskra to be tackled and thwarted by the dog, taking a purposefully long time to decide. In the end, she whistled at the canine, while Fangorn and Sila scattered. “Oooh, c’mere Goose, I’ve got something for you!” To which she chucked one of her companions’ many treats from her pocket.
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
