melita
What the Honeybee had deigned appropriate for channeling in her time as an Accepted – battle – didn’t seem to be the same for others. “I think I mostly used mine for the middle of something dangerous. But I’ve seen a lot just waste it too.” Like when Zavien called for Ludo, before his untimely death in Halo, and with nothing specific, the herald had given them duck-themed outfits. She’d appreciated it, but it hadn’t anything to spurn them onward, and in the end, she’d done a majority of the work. Everyone else had either escaped or perished. “Maybe it’s a learning curve,” for many; she could only shrug, all the rage of those moments gone, dimmed to something irritating but hopeful some sagacity had come of it.
As for gratitude, her eyes widened for a moment, having never thought of it at all. “I don’t…think so? But I’m not there long enough, so...,” even if they had, on the winds of being sent back to start, she couldn’t be certain. She had for all the times she’d channeled the range of heralds, grateful, hopeful, full of vehemence, but maybe they didn’t consider Melita’s time worth it. Not after napping or throwing ducks. Nor had she even given the notion of knowing what came after; if summoned during a siege, if barreling down a monster, if tied and knotted and gnarled to other parameters and fixtures. It hadn’t come up yet. She shrugged, extending a sigh before delving further into her sandwich, feeling like she was simply bringing the mood down.
But she could always ask Ludo on her next visit, so she nodded, nose wrinkling in wonder. Her senses and features altered drastically though at his insinuation, smile returning in a hasty, devilish grin. “I already punched him. And yelled. A lot.” If Kaisel didn’t get the point thereafter, then she wasn’t certain what else to do (
salvation doesn't look like light
