Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
of the women they burned alive
And sure enough, it worked.
She let out of a little whoop of triumph before scraping her way back down the tree, until bare feet touched down along the mossy ground again. Fangorn seemed to be grumbling a warning that she couldn’t quite decipher (or had chosen not to hear and understand), as she wandered closer to the net. “I don’t.” Not a clue as to what it was, but her examination and scrutiny was quiet as the bird stilled.
It was vibrant in its ominous stance. In the way that the world delivered forewarnings about dangerous creatures. And only then did Melita’s eyes dart towards her beloved companion, the way he waved his vines, the way he instinctively backed away – that even a vampire gourd wouldn’t go for something toxic and venomous.
Her glance went towards the bird, and she sighed. “It might be poisonous.” And therefore, not edible. Not something she would bring back to markets. Not something she would barter away.
Though…her hands went towards the feathers, green and bright, likely meant to ensure it blended in amongst the fronds and leaves, even though the rest of its brilliant coloring might hasten the whole regard away. “We could always pluck some feathers, and take them back?” On a smile, on a devilish smirk. If they weren't useful, then the plumage could at least garner some pretty decor. “And then set it free.”
She let out of a little whoop of triumph before scraping her way back down the tree, until bare feet touched down along the mossy ground again. Fangorn seemed to be grumbling a warning that she couldn’t quite decipher (or had chosen not to hear and understand), as she wandered closer to the net. “I don’t.” Not a clue as to what it was, but her examination and scrutiny was quiet as the bird stilled.
It was vibrant in its ominous stance. In the way that the world delivered forewarnings about dangerous creatures. And only then did Melita’s eyes dart towards her beloved companion, the way he waved his vines, the way he instinctively backed away – that even a vampire gourd wouldn’t go for something toxic and venomous.
Her glance went towards the bird, and she sighed. “It might be poisonous.” And therefore, not edible. Not something she would bring back to markets. Not something she would barter away.
Though…her hands went towards the feathers, green and bright, likely meant to ensure it blended in amongst the fronds and leaves, even though the rest of its brilliant coloring might hasten the whole regard away. “We could always pluck some feathers, and take them back?” On a smile, on a devilish smirk. If they weren't useful, then the plumage could at least garner some pretty decor. “And then set it free.”
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
to bring a whole wildfire to life
