Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
Melita breathed, but it was difficult when something was clutching at her insides, and she wasn’t certain of the old man’s statement really made up for the loss. It was unfortunate that all those other children hadn’t made it – but it’d been for the soldier too. Sometimes the way things unraveled and unfurled just didn’t make sense to her, and she’d have to reckon with the fact. It simply hurt to do so now.
She inched her way forward, granting a nod at the wagoneer again. “Thank you,” before her eyes went towards the bounty. No avarice existed, no parallels of greed. At some venture, she simply wanted to get in and get out. There were so many options, so many choices, and everything hurt, binding and collecting – so her hands, her fingers, only inched out over two items, going for the gloves, and the spyglass.
--
Melita picks the Spyglass and Gloves of Crushing!
She inched her way forward, granting a nod at the wagoneer again. “Thank you,” before her eyes went towards the bounty. No avarice existed, no parallels of greed. At some venture, she simply wanted to get in and get out. There were so many options, so many choices, and everything hurt, binding and collecting – so her hands, her fingers, only inched out over two items, going for the gloves, and the spyglass.
--
Melita picks the Spyglass and Gloves of Crushing!
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
