MELITA
Based on what she’d seen, what she’d heard on Sunjata’s experiences, she didn’t want to know about their relationship. No thanks.Unfortunately for Maea, Melita’s instincts on others either ran towards compassion, generosity, effervescence, or entirely in the opposite direction: prone to pettiness, to grudges, to a seething torrent of capricious, mercurial inclinations. It could’ve been the fire within her. It could’ve been just a system of flaws. It could’ve been that she didn’t give much of a damn about what the world wanted from her, and more upon what she intended to grant back. To those she cherished and loved, it was everything.
To those in the here and now, it wasn’t much.
She shrugged, offering no hints to her onslaught, a rampant immaturity she’d yet to outgrow. There wasn’t much else to say or do, and the girl likely would’ve turned to walk away regardless, not a second thought, perhaps the barest hint of a wave, had the will-o-wisp not bound out of bags, its bright, vicious glow prospering towards her. She’d met them within the Greatwood, hadn’t been overly fond or inclined in one way or another; knew they were often tempted to lead others astray. Her eyes widened instinctively at its light, at its pervading essence, then eyelids shut, snapped tightly altogether; the glow still present behind them. A vicious snort ensued from her chest. “Cute,” intent on remaining an irritant. Fangorn, nestled at her ankles, growled and hissed his own contortions.
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
Give the bruises out like gifts
