watch her dance, she beckons you
fair warning: leave her to herself
She thought nothing of the comment of him wanting his sketches and pictures to be good. She’d assumed that of anyone striving forward in whatever area; wanting to be great, wanting to be grand, wanting to be better. It was how she’d lived and breathed anyway, a hum floating its way, a low warble, from her throat while her eyes ghosted and coasted over any images that required something more to them. Here and there, she grabbed hold of certain aspects of the myth, capturing the sun, whittling away baskets, all leading to the midnight gathering…speculating for a time on one of the more final pieces. Gently and softly, her hands delicately placed on the charcoal, she began to add stars, constellations, and galaxies to the backdrop, intending for it to be as stunning as the goddess mentioned.
Her eyes only lifted when he asked about the heralds, a quick nod, some unsettled excitement brewing over her smile. “I just did the other evening! She’s wonderful! I’ve also met Ludo.” And she wouldn’t be able to say enough about the latter. Her gaze solidified back to her picture, enamored for a moment at the notion of the surroundings and scenery, striving to replicate what she’d seen across the tundra’s night sky. “I saw Frey at a wedding recently.” Here her face fell into the slightest of frowns, a furrowing of her brow at how ridiculous the entire thing had been, and not wanting to fall into the folds of discussing something she would’ve rather seen go up in flames. “What did you think of Frey?” She’d been warned away from them a multitude of times from different sources, so all she had were spirals of apprehension and the unknown.
Her eyes only lifted when he asked about the heralds, a quick nod, some unsettled excitement brewing over her smile. “I just did the other evening! She’s wonderful! I’ve also met Ludo.” And she wouldn’t be able to say enough about the latter. Her gaze solidified back to her picture, enamored for a moment at the notion of the surroundings and scenery, striving to replicate what she’d seen across the tundra’s night sky. “I saw Frey at a wedding recently.” Here her face fell into the slightest of frowns, a furrowing of her brow at how ridiculous the entire thing had been, and not wanting to fall into the folds of discussing something she would’ve rather seen go up in flames. “What did you think of Frey?” She’d been warned away from them a multitude of times from different sources, so all she had were spirals of apprehension and the unknown.
beautiful to see, but poison to touch
calm and chaos, evolved and still evolving
MELITA
