MELITA
Before she could ponder anymore of the discussion about whether to proceed, or not (fly off into the ether, hunt down something with rapacity and sheer, determined will), a man, completely unfamiliar to her, loomed along the aperture. Her eyes glanced up and up, towering over her lithe, nimble form, uncertain over what to expect, guarded for a moment, as she’d been standing on his doorstep, and he’d be free to growl, grumble, hiss, and chase her off. However, the friendly nature, unexpected, instantly maneuvering into her more amiable qualities, a smile blooming, hastened. “Um, sure!” Because she was audacious, bold, and something entirely reckless, maneuvering into the sanctuary with wide eyes and the promises of art; not a talent she was disposed to by any means, but inquisitive enough to learn. “I’m Melita. Are you Bastien?” Rexanna’s husband; a wedding sadly and sorely missed while she’d been blighted, but no one would have wanted her there – not in that treacherous, lethal condition. She bounded and leapt further into the confines upon the invitation though, remnants of apprehension scattered in the wake of potential. Fangorn followed close behind, eerie eyes cast at the larger stranger, before ghosting along, nosing at brushes. On a flurry of excitement, a gasp, she reeled back towards him. “Could I try the paint?”
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Disappear into the sun
