Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
of the women they burned alive
Not alone then; her name came on the light wind, on the hustle and bustle of the fading port, on the wings of the sea. Her head shot upwards, entirely impulsive and prone to predacious hinges, and her entire body stilled. Much like a feral nymph, waiting for something to happen, to occur, because her eyes flickered over this woman and she didn’t know her at all – couldn’t place, couldn’t assemble, couldn’t parse together the details that would’ve collected into a whole. She was dark hair and blue eyes and there should’ve been a spark of recognition from familial ties, but Melita didn’t catch them.
Instead she was on guard, a seething little ember pondering over the state of her weapons. Quiver over her shoulder. Staff on her belt. Other necessities, like daggers and such, had been put into her bag; one on her ankle for easier access. The pumpkin at her feet grumbled long and low, and she had half an inclination to join him. To be a threat, to be a menace –
But she had no reason other than that latent, instinctual blend of survival tactics and skills. So she breathed, lifting one hand to shield her gilded gaze from the sun, while she worked over what to do next. “Yes,” she uttered, the words echoing in caution, in brief hesitancy. The honeybee wouldn’t have stayed anonymous here, not for long, not with the way she manifested her actions upon Torchline. There’d be no use hiding or denying the title. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
Instead she was on guard, a seething little ember pondering over the state of her weapons. Quiver over her shoulder. Staff on her belt. Other necessities, like daggers and such, had been put into her bag; one on her ankle for easier access. The pumpkin at her feet grumbled long and low, and she had half an inclination to join him. To be a threat, to be a menace –
But she had no reason other than that latent, instinctual blend of survival tactics and skills. So she breathed, lifting one hand to shield her gilded gaze from the sun, while she worked over what to do next. “Yes,” she uttered, the words echoing in caution, in brief hesitancy. The honeybee wouldn’t have stayed anonymous here, not for long, not with the way she manifested her actions upon Torchline. There’d be no use hiding or denying the title. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
to bring a whole wildfire to life
