melita
The implication that someone just dumped their shit here leaves Melita both distressed and annoyed; an irritated gasp filling the void of her sudden silence. She didn’t really want the mystery to fade away because some Stormbreak assbag decided to leave their spring cleaning to the Oerwoud’s essence. “Laaaaame,” she uttered instead on an extended drawl, regaining her stance and pushing aside another book (Do You Have Rodents of Unusual Size in Your Neck of the Woods?) and sighing, about to slide her arms over her chest and muster some other comeback.
Except then they were reeling, a challenge in the air, and her eyes widened, immediately sprinting after him on notions of adversity and ambitions and simply beating him in the sudden provocation. “You’re on!” Easily taking the bait, incensed and ignited, her strides kept up with his through the undergrowth. More than once she took to dramatically launching over a log, listening to the confusion toiling from Fangorn to Sila, back and forth, as she laughed, then turned swiftly to the left at the sight of another peephole.
Ducking and gasping for air, laughing, she slid around its darkened exterior, and snagged at whatever was shiny in her midst – a rock - and she held it up with vicious glee. “Already got one!” and then she was trying to grab at anything in the midst, not unlike some Smeagol-like figure, hoping he wouldn’t be able to see or seize anything in the vicinity.
salvation doesn't look like light
