there's always a glimmer in those
The youth charged along, renewed in energy, zest, and spirit, a mettle to her motions, remembering the steps towards massive roots and unknown portals. She inclined her head back over her shoulder as Sascha paused, clearly puzzled by whatever they were doing – which meant he didn’t know the entirety of the legend. Was he new? Her voice sparked and toiled along the edges of ferns and light, pressing her existence into the earth, as if daring them to forget it. “To keep Safrin distracted,” she paused, lowering her tones to a whisper, as if it were a safely-guarded secret, and not what everyone else was doing. “and not let her bring the night back quickly. It's all part of the Capture the Sun myth from the Fae.” Wessex had asked her last year if she thought Safrin was listening; and though she wasn’t entirely certain or sure, she kept up with the tale, just in case. “We can tell whatever we like-,”
And her voice was cut off by another scampering through the woods; a popular choice for today’s antics.
Fangorn growled again, an unearthly, hissing sort of sibilance that pulsed and pervaded, settled into her veins, and the honeybee child ceased her movements again for the sake of a stranger’s appearance. This one appeared to be looking for Sascha, based on the resounding, ricocheting calls along the ethereal foundations, and her head tilted, curious, as she wasn’t addressed at all – save for an inquiry not laced for her ears. Narrowing her eyes and not giving it much more thought, leaving Sascha to deal with it, Melita continued on her way, her purpose not to be damned, embarking into the grounds as if she were part nymph and sylph (anything but), and the massive tree was suddenly in their wake.
And her voice was cut off by another scampering through the woods; a popular choice for today’s antics.
Fangorn growled again, an unearthly, hissing sort of sibilance that pulsed and pervaded, settled into her veins, and the honeybee child ceased her movements again for the sake of a stranger’s appearance. This one appeared to be looking for Sascha, based on the resounding, ricocheting calls along the ethereal foundations, and her head tilted, curious, as she wasn’t addressed at all – save for an inquiry not laced for her ears. Narrowing her eyes and not giving it much more thought, leaving Sascha to deal with it, Melita continued on her way, her purpose not to be damned, embarking into the grounds as if she were part nymph and sylph (anything but), and the massive tree was suddenly in their wake.
who have been through the dark
MELITA
