Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Ordinarily, the meeting would have commenced and ceased, each to their own boundaries, a name not known, a face likely to be forgotten. Except this stranger didn’t seem to barrel onwards in the same nuances, leaving Melita to arch a brow, and tighten her grip around her staff. “Nowhere special, just wandering.” Avoiding. Her eyes went to the dragon, a warning established within them, and then pondered over the notions of company. “But if you want.” It might give her one more excuse for not going home, and if the dragon tried anything, there’d be another storyline to establish into the void.
The honeybee placed her companion down on the sand, and Fangorn hovered instinctively around her ankles as they began to walk further upon the sands. “Melita.” A pause, nosey demolition sinking inward as her hands twirled the staff, more for the companion than anything else. “I haven’t seen you before. Are you new to Torchline?”
The honeybee placed her companion down on the sand, and Fangorn hovered instinctively around her ankles as they began to walk further upon the sands. “Melita.” A pause, nosey demolition sinking inward as her hands twirled the staff, more for the companion than anything else. “I haven’t seen you before. Are you new to Torchline?”
I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
