your dreams are all full of war
you are from another time
Fangorn and Sila serenaded her with warnings well before the Ancient made his appearance, so she cooly turned her head over her shoulder before her features erupted into a grin; no worse for wear nor wholly bothered by the situation at hand. “Unfortunately. Obnoxious fuckers.” She swung her legs around so she could turn and face him, inclined to kick at the hedges underneath, listening to some of the twigs snap, knowing she could simply toss off the tops of the maze whenever she’d like. you are from another time
While the gourd waved his vines to Astaroth and Sila hovered overhead, she tilted her head, putting her dagger and strings down. “What brings you out this way?” She had been lured by the thought of the unnatural fire again (one of those moments where she’d half-wondered if she could touch the thing and then get the flames for herself without the back and forth).
salvation doesn't look like light
So what remains?
So what remains?
Melita
