to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
The Rathskeller’s fate had been similar; broken down and consumed because of the monsters within, instead of the ones outside; meandering and crawling their way through the corridors. She had never ventured out during LongNight, had never seen their claws, but had heard enough stories, had met enough fiends and demons along the Rift, to know better. Instead, she listened to the way they punctured and lacerated, to the way they wounded and scarred, to the way they manifested years and years later, when families and loved ones were still torn apart by the irreverent void. Wasn’t there a way to make it stop? Had anyone ever tried, in all their hundreds of opportunities? She grit her teeth and bore the question in silence; Sunjata wouldn’t have the answer any more than she did, and she wasn’t sure if she dared voice it out loud, in front of the Naturals who had lived through the scorn, the rancor, the edges, the apprehension, for far longer than they had.
Her eyes followed his along crowds, as he warranted the missing, as he lingered along the gathered. Some were strangers, some were known and cherished, and some were in between; accounted for in their maneuvers, in their stained clothes, in their ashen faces. “Ezra…,” she ceased, thinking of the man she’d only seen briefly, when her hands were still shaking, while she was trying to make lanterns with Jigano. “I can help you look for him, if you want.” She shrugged, requiring something instead of remaining completely, utterly useless.
Sunjata’s mention of a new bar, another refuge in place of the decrepit, forsaken one, gave her pause, made her smile a little more. “Or with that too.” A little laughter tumbled from her throat, dashing along her mouth with the surge of a smile, the promise of a return. “Otherwise, I don’t have much plans at all.” Her gaze lingered back along the crowd; more training, maybe, become some sort of expert in the arts she already had some merit in, develop some new weapon abilities, or something else, before she became utterly consumed in her uselessness.
Her eyes followed his along crowds, as he warranted the missing, as he lingered along the gathered. Some were strangers, some were known and cherished, and some were in between; accounted for in their maneuvers, in their stained clothes, in their ashen faces. “Ezra…,” she ceased, thinking of the man she’d only seen briefly, when her hands were still shaking, while she was trying to make lanterns with Jigano. “I can help you look for him, if you want.” She shrugged, requiring something instead of remaining completely, utterly useless.
Sunjata’s mention of a new bar, another refuge in place of the decrepit, forsaken one, gave her pause, made her smile a little more. “Or with that too.” A little laughter tumbled from her throat, dashing along her mouth with the surge of a smile, the promise of a return. “Otherwise, I don’t have much plans at all.” Her gaze lingered back along the crowd; more training, maybe, become some sort of expert in the arts she already had some merit in, develop some new weapon abilities, or something else, before she became utterly consumed in her uselessness.
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
