[SE] flame to please

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

Before she had more than a few moments to grumble a distinct croak in all her irritation, building underneath her amphibian skin by the second, she returned, coasting on the water and snarling. Luckily, for either herself or the stranger, he’d made no comment about her dominion and seemed to be fending off the birds coming his way.

Painstakingly determined to accomplish bedlam, the demigod reached into her incantations again. While Sila soared and struck down one of the birds heading their way, she breathed, notched, unfurled –

Hardly expecting the caustic shock of the lightning striking one creature; ignoring the sudden bout of panic rushing into her heart, searing along her chest over old scars and fatal tournament battles. In hindsight, she should’ve taken up Iskra’s mention of practice, of being safe in the confines of striving and trying without the notion of death crawling up her throat.

Instead, she clenched her jaw, pretended her hands weren’t shaking. “You good over there?” she called, preparing for another onslaught and hoping for a lack of reminders.

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury