shards of iron and ice

MELITA

Ordinarily, Melita would’ve explored the vast sands and reaches of Torchline, inspired by its glorious shapes and tantalizing sun. Except she’d barely churned her way through Halo, and though ruffled in parka, in furs, in gear she’d rather not wear in the glimpse of summer, she was still tempted to reign, to rummage, to prowl the unknown. Curiosity and inquiry reigned supreme in her mind, and clutching Fangorn deep in her arms, afraid he’d be lost amongst the hustling world and bustling townspeople, her eyes set their sights upon portions of the columns, the avenues, how they differed from the Hollowed Grounds’ settlement, where streets curved and bent, where snow inhabited and cold stuck into one’s senses. Survival – this place translated survival, endurance, persistence, and perseverance, and at the very least, despite the mountains never being in her heart or soul, she could understand its depths, could share in its fortitude.

help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts