MELITA
Determined, determined, determined, striving to make amends for the revolting nuance of her latest string of fault and flaws, the youth refused to break. It was more difficult than it sounded now, despite the amount of times she’d persevered and endured in countless other regions. Maybe it hurt more presently because of how deeply she’d been controlled and compelled by something that was and wasn’t her at the same time; desperate to be monstrous, but completely out of her element. She’d been incapable of deciphering who was friend and who was foe, turning on everyone and everything because of the blighted curse pulsing and pervading its way through her soul. It was disgusting. It was vile. And some primordial part of her soul hated herself for it. Today’s walk into the woods was not immersed in its prior effervescence; not ready for the buoyancy, for the relish of savoring life. Instead, she picked and rummaged along the boundaries, bag in hand, bending down and rooting through fresh powder and rime (adequately prepared with gloves this time), striving to uncover snow moss. Perhaps she could start making amends by gathering enough for wherever they were staying (would anyone want her in their home, in their shelter, in their refuge? - that was heartbreaking too, and she suddenly wondered where she’d even be allowed, permitted, to go). She dashed away the forlorn thought, not allowing it to sink any further, too much to swallow, too much to consume, already devoured by everything else around her. “Fangorn,” she murmured, soft and gentle to the companion who nestled nearby. “Can you find some snow moss too?” The gourd might have better luck – and with some strange aplomb, he bounded and leapt, sniffing over bark, and she tucked herself back into her cloak and furs, hoping for a better outcome.
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Disappear into the sun
