but there's chaos brewing
underneath my skin
She swam. She swam and swam and swam until the sand’s granules were no longer under her feet and she could feel her muscles burning; until the echoes of death didn’t sting and sing in her ears, until she could dive down below the fathoms and not reel in its cutting path. Melita might’ve gone until her bones ached and given not a single care in the world – ember extinguished for the moment, relying completely on strength, persistence, and the mettle clinging to her veins.
How had it gone so wrong? Power and fortitude, might and menace, all clustered together in their foothold of monstrous hunting – success and spirits rising, rising, rising –
And then death.
Which she’d seen time and time before, but it’d been a while. And it’d been a long time since she wondered if she’d been partially to blame.
The girl threaded her way through the sea side, listening to Fangorn grumble warnings to her from his favored rock – a jumble of emotions and ruminations, quietly seeking and seething, until she rapidly descended again, clinging to the portals of sun-flecked waves and coral. She broke the surface a moment more, hang clinging to the boulder where her companion and things lingered, her eyes going to the bag containing the new items. What did those matter either – rewards for survival?
How had it gone so wrong? Power and fortitude, might and menace, all clustered together in their foothold of monstrous hunting – success and spirits rising, rising, rising –
And then death.
Which she’d seen time and time before, but it’d been a while. And it’d been a long time since she wondered if she’d been partially to blame.
The girl threaded her way through the sea side, listening to Fangorn grumble warnings to her from his favored rock – a jumble of emotions and ruminations, quietly seeking and seething, until she rapidly descended again, clinging to the portals of sun-flecked waves and coral. She broke the surface a moment more, hang clinging to the boulder where her companion and things lingered, her eyes going to the bag containing the new items. What did those matter either – rewards for survival?
trying to hold in the storm
instead of making waves
MELITA
