to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Melita gave kudos to herself for not snarling at the mention of Phoebe’s name. Instead, she tucked the growl, the furrowing of her brows, away, away, away, for once not showing her range of mercurial emotions. Instead, it was only the jubilance of potential melee with a hammer, instantly grabbing one of the tools (the smirk, however, was not hidden – beating the shit out of something was a regular pastime for the spitfire). “Sure.” The youth had no qualms with holding the board and putting everything in place, and had managed to garner enough strength to apply herself readily to the task. Before long, she’d grabbed one of the boards, intending to line it up with the nearest window, waiting for Maeve to come take hold of it as well, for adequate balance. Fangorn wisely stood out of the way, not tangling himself in and amongst ankles.
to be the sun
MELITA
