MELITA
Something about his first comment made her wonder, made her ponder, made her pause; because sometimes she’d strived to be the light, to be the exuberance, to be the wild, wicked, scorching entity she’d always craved – incapable of being dimmed, of shattering behind clouds and darkness. Or if that wasn’t meant at all – much more literal, and her eyes swept over the canvas and thought about what it was like to be so gilded, so untouchable, so powerful and potent that the world always required their presence. “I tried,” she proffered on a laugh, airy and bright, turning and twisting towards the blank canvases he proclaimed vacant and needing sustenance.The girl endeavored a smirk, a shrug, at the latter comment; imposing membership into the artist’s sanctuary – which she could comprehend the meaning of now. At least under Bastien’s tutelage and instruction, it had been somewhat of a sanctum, an area to explore and express more than just her wildfire habits and nefarious properties, rooted, quiet, tranquil, and not the least bit frustrating. It was entirely new and foreign to her, to not be gallivanting off with her staff in hand, but a brush, peaceful and serene. “Understood,” she ventured with another round of laughter, ethereal, conjured by flames and sparks, the inward reflections causing her to rethink her disposition towards the guild. Would it be so strange to be a part of an artist’s sanctum and a monster hunting one? She withheld a snort, gaze catching him adding a signature, and on an interpretation and impression, did the same to her own.
Then she stood, suddenly losing the feeling of ease, Fangorn raising his skull to watch her. “Should I come back in a couple of days to get it?”
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Disappear into the sun
