to be lit up from within
vein by vein
No resounded, and she rolled her eyes, tucking the bow back into its bracelet. “I suppose," was in a singsong measure, followed by an impish wrinkle to her nose. Starting a fire was something she could do, and she hollered over to her gourd, who was hiding amongst some rocks for whatever reason. “Fangorn, find us some sticks!” There should’ve been some dried ones nearby, while she dug a little hole in the dunes, collecting a few rocks here and there to put underneath. The gourd readily applied himself, a guilty look sent Haai’s way that the game was soon over once he leapt from behind the stones, rustling back and forth, grabbing hold of age-old driftwood that had long since been left to its own devices. Tucking them within his fangs, he made his way back to Melita, whom patted and scratched his head for his efforts. “Good job,” and then she took hold of them, placing them along the hole, and snagged at one of her arrows. The tip instantly became ignited, and instead of utilizing flint or some other element, she corresponded and applied the one she already had, dipping the pointed, serrated edges towards the sticks, waiting for them to ignite.
to be the sun
MELITA
