Flora
Flora wrinkles her nose, laughing under her breath as she nudges a loose length of rope aside with her boot. "I don’t think of it as taking the high road," she says, brushing her hands on her hips. "More like...not falling into their obvious little trap."
She glances toward the horizon. "I mean, if they’d just wanted to hurt me, there are easier ways. Egg my house. Show up screaming. Have a dramatic bitch fight in the the middle of Haulani." A shrug rolls through her shoulders, light but not dismissive. "But burning down the bar—which I gave to her? That was meant to be public. So yeah. I’m hoping taking that angle away from them stings."
Turning, she catches Melita’s smile again and offers a quieter one of her own. "Thanks," she says simply, genuinely, no dramatic flourish required.
As Melita calls for spirits of her own and the air responds with glittering wind and motion, Flora watches the Firecracker bloom into brilliance with a small, appreciative huh. Hand on her hip, she eyes the sparkling sails, then glances sidelong at the Honeybee with an amused brow lift. "I didn’t think you could do that anymore," she muses, adjusting a strand of freshened lavender curling near her elbow.
Then, with a flicker of warmth still humming behind her gaze, she softens just enough to let curiosity in. "How’ve you been lately?"
She glances toward the horizon. "I mean, if they’d just wanted to hurt me, there are easier ways. Egg my house. Show up screaming. Have a dramatic bitch fight in the the middle of Haulani." A shrug rolls through her shoulders, light but not dismissive. "But burning down the bar—which I gave to her? That was meant to be public. So yeah. I’m hoping taking that angle away from them stings."
Turning, she catches Melita’s smile again and offers a quieter one of her own. "Thanks," she says simply, genuinely, no dramatic flourish required.
As Melita calls for spirits of her own and the air responds with glittering wind and motion, Flora watches the Firecracker bloom into brilliance with a small, appreciative huh. Hand on her hip, she eyes the sparkling sails, then glances sidelong at the Honeybee with an amused brow lift. "I didn’t think you could do that anymore," she muses, adjusting a strand of freshened lavender curling near her elbow.
Then, with a flicker of warmth still humming behind her gaze, she softens just enough to let curiosity in. "How’ve you been lately?"
I trace the evidence, make it make some sense
why the wound is still bleedin'
why the wound is still bleedin'
Code stolen from Queen Sky
