to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
Armed to the tooth with her munitions, the fire arrows alight upon her quiver, staff in her arms, Fangorn at her side, the lithe honeybee child, cured of her blighted, mercurial stances, was only braced for the LongNight’s ominous turn. The seasons before had cycled in such rapid form, one after another after another, no end in sight, until finally they scourged right back upon the twist and turns of winter’s abyss. She swallowed down any remnants of apprehension; now wasn’t the time. She was ready. She was bold. She’d done her promised part, the crowd of luxere gathered outside the doors, beautiful and glowing, striving to ward off the pestilence of demons. She’d strive to do more now, now, now, upon whatever means necessary, gliding into the familiar lair of the Monster Hunter’s Guild, a home away from home, even now.
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
