Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
Melita hadn’t snagged at all her borrowed Halo clothes or stolen Iskra sweaters for this brief sojourn, thinking they wouldn’t be necessary as the season altered and changed; but she’d been incorrect on that assumption. Digging through her skyship had ensured she’d squirreled away a light jacket, adorned with Ludo and its many cats on the back, making the trek into the Inner Quarter and its marketplace a little easier. Maybe she’d gotten too used to Torchline’s warm air.
But even the Hollowed Grounds had a touch of chill to it – but maybe if they wound around closer towards the bonfire, they’d have less of an issue. “How’d LongNight go?” she started towards her uncle, ambling through the marketplace with a keen choice already laden around her thoughts. “We had empanada fire hoop jumping.” As a way of ‘top that’, as she circled around a kiosk full of flowers – though it seemed they were having trouble keeping stock in decent shape.
But even the Hollowed Grounds had a touch of chill to it – but maybe if they wound around closer towards the bonfire, they’d have less of an issue. “How’d LongNight go?” she started towards her uncle, ambling through the marketplace with a keen choice already laden around her thoughts. “We had empanada fire hoop jumping.” As a way of ‘top that’, as she circled around a kiosk full of flowers – though it seemed they were having trouble keeping stock in decent shape.
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
