knew what she was doing when she invited the wild in
“Might as well,” echoed on a grin – why not add to the collection and assortment of souls rambling around this place? Melita made no mention of her bat acquisition – out within the confines of its house along the perimeter of theirs – though it was heavily implied in the mischief laden amidst her smile.
Thereafter though, she accepted the warm cider, taking a moment to breathe it in, to the steam and beatific aroma circling over her, to the memories of her mother’s herbs, her sister and her laughing, dancing, streamlining and careening around the little home. “Thank you,” and then she drank, appreciating the sweet, suddenly liquor-laden, coughing away in surprise, and then laughter in the quick, rapid expanse and burning in her throat. “Quite a rush.” Didn’t stop her from taking more though, sipping far more gingerly this time.
Before her head was consumed with the buzz, her hands went to his instrument, determined to hold it steady and move her fingers out of the way while he wrapped the twine around it again – a stabilizer (an odd thing to equate to her character; mercurial and tempestuous as she was). And while her grasp was occupied, distracted, she couldn’t pulse them away to grab hold of him.
Her nose wrinkled though, brows furrowing at the statement – she’d known, in some capacity. “I know.” The call to the monster hunting, to the fighting of demons. She didn’t drown in the murky nuances suddenly flooding over her, but gods it was tempting – not daring to lift her gaze off of the bauble. “Have you figured out what you're going to do?” Easier terms – plans, goals, aspirations, then the tell-tale sign of imminent death throngs.
Thereafter though, she accepted the warm cider, taking a moment to breathe it in, to the steam and beatific aroma circling over her, to the memories of her mother’s herbs, her sister and her laughing, dancing, streamlining and careening around the little home. “Thank you,” and then she drank, appreciating the sweet, suddenly liquor-laden, coughing away in surprise, and then laughter in the quick, rapid expanse and burning in her throat. “Quite a rush.” Didn’t stop her from taking more though, sipping far more gingerly this time.
Before her head was consumed with the buzz, her hands went to his instrument, determined to hold it steady and move her fingers out of the way while he wrapped the twine around it again – a stabilizer (an odd thing to equate to her character; mercurial and tempestuous as she was). And while her grasp was occupied, distracted, she couldn’t pulse them away to grab hold of him.
Her nose wrinkled though, brows furrowing at the statement – she’d known, in some capacity. “I know.” The call to the monster hunting, to the fighting of demons. She didn’t drown in the murky nuances suddenly flooding over her, but gods it was tempting – not daring to lift her gaze off of the bauble. “Have you figured out what you're going to do?” Easier terms – plans, goals, aspirations, then the tell-tale sign of imminent death throngs.
Melita
