there's always a glimmer in those
The kindness and benevolence in this world, when it wasn’t being harpooned or lanced by disaster, was always profound. She’d tried to extend it back as much as she could, but wouldn’t have known where to go in the face of all these tempestuous airs. “Okay, thank you.” A nod, a beckoning of acceptance to mitigate pain and torment – except some couldn’t be, and she wanted to say she was sorry about the triplets, about everything else Phoebe and so many had simply lost in the stretches of time and space where they should’ve been delighted.
But instead, the topic diverted entirely, and the shape of her eyes widened briefly, staring down at the fronds of her basket sticking straight up, not yet plaited into formation, and then riveting them to Phoebe. “By necessity, at first.” True fighting statures hadn’t been composed until here; her tenacity, obstinance, and ravenous nature had seen to her defiance and survival. “Sometimes with sticks, or rocks. Anything I could put my hands on.” Anything to keep the monsters, the predators, the demons away. “I just wanted to protect my family.” And even then, it hadn’t really mattered – her mother sacrificing herself for her daughters, Clementine snatched and gone, Zekle disappeared, everything gone, gone, gone. “When I came here, there were several who helped me train.” Alistair, Wessex, and Roana – taught her to ground herself, to become poised and something more than a restless, wild spirit. Now she was just an unrelenting individual, except uncertain of where to put her fighting fists, clenched teeth, and explosive howls. Then, a soft sigh, on edges of basket weaving, on intervals unsaid. "Do you want to learn?"
But instead, the topic diverted entirely, and the shape of her eyes widened briefly, staring down at the fronds of her basket sticking straight up, not yet plaited into formation, and then riveting them to Phoebe. “By necessity, at first.” True fighting statures hadn’t been composed until here; her tenacity, obstinance, and ravenous nature had seen to her defiance and survival. “Sometimes with sticks, or rocks. Anything I could put my hands on.” Anything to keep the monsters, the predators, the demons away. “I just wanted to protect my family.” And even then, it hadn’t really mattered – her mother sacrificing herself for her daughters, Clementine snatched and gone, Zekle disappeared, everything gone, gone, gone. “When I came here, there were several who helped me train.” Alistair, Wessex, and Roana – taught her to ground herself, to become poised and something more than a restless, wild spirit. Now she was just an unrelenting individual, except uncertain of where to put her fighting fists, clenched teeth, and explosive howls. Then, a soft sigh, on edges of basket weaving, on intervals unsaid. "Do you want to learn?"
who have been through the dark
MELITA
