Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
LongNight had always held that sharp ghost in the back of Melita’s mind – difficult to erase the shadows of persistent horror, no matter how many years separated the factions. It was why she’d gone to Torchline soon after – escape and evasion – and so now, when the evening melted into constancy, she had those telltale motions too. Bonfires. Glee. Rampant amounts of alcohol. The flames were reminders of more than just rampant trepidation; glory in the strength of their own mischief, in their own survival.
She could see telltale infernos in the distance, ignited with something else to alter hues – her eyes widening, grin turning Cheshire as she glanced at Iskra alongside. Toes dug deep into the sand and called to home, not unlike the woodcutter, and so she hummed, skipping a little as she pushed off the dunes and angled her strides to be a little swifter. She’d long since knotted the ends of her dress so they didn’t end up dragged throughout sea and surf, gaze going back and forth. Fangorn bobbled steadily behind, vines outstretched, while Sila soared, copper sheen glinting off displays further ahead. “Like I’d run from the heat,” she teased, sticking her tongue out in a very childish display.
But she could at least see the hints, the way he was trying to find ways to carve spaces and time for another. “We could try it though,” she salvaged, quirking her brow upwards, as if asking for a challenge. “I did want to go maim some of those fucking huge ass spiders your forest has.”
She could see telltale infernos in the distance, ignited with something else to alter hues – her eyes widening, grin turning Cheshire as she glanced at Iskra alongside. Toes dug deep into the sand and called to home, not unlike the woodcutter, and so she hummed, skipping a little as she pushed off the dunes and angled her strides to be a little swifter. She’d long since knotted the ends of her dress so they didn’t end up dragged throughout sea and surf, gaze going back and forth. Fangorn bobbled steadily behind, vines outstretched, while Sila soared, copper sheen glinting off displays further ahead. “Like I’d run from the heat,” she teased, sticking her tongue out in a very childish display.
But she could at least see the hints, the way he was trying to find ways to carve spaces and time for another. “We could try it though,” she salvaged, quirking her brow upwards, as if asking for a challenge. “I did want to go maim some of those fucking huge ass spiders your forest has.”
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
