but there's chaos brewing
underneath my skin
They didn’t matter very little – not at all. But Melita also didn’t want her experiences to be preyed upon, if this was a conundrum of specious things, of deceit, of wiles concocted well beyond her means. She’d never heard of such a thing – beyond maybe shapeshifters, or why a spirit would do it, and every part of her screamed some other infernal anarchy.
Fangorn, tired of it all, rolled his eerie eyes and advanced towards Aurelia – emboldened, audacious, much more like his companion then perhaps he’d ever been given credit for. Certainly the most level-headed between the two, he neared the Arbiter’s side, and sniffed at her shoes. A few low grumbles later, as if this secured all identity issues and crises, the gourd turned his head towards the foolish Melita, who could only hang her hands limply at her sides. “Sorry.” For what, she wasn’t sure. Doubting? The pumpkin gave Aurelia a swift nod, before plodding his way over to the rock again, muttering another round of incoherent jumbles and hisses, but they were likely pertaining to some manner of foolishness.
Her jaw still feathered and her fists clenched afterward on the round of other things though, a barely audible sigh twisting and turning through her chest. Sunjata in need of an Arbiter. There was quite an amount of truth to that statement – and so her eyes flickered down to the ground, to the stones, to everything else that seemed to hurt and notch and bleed, and she couldn’t explain why. “So just Jack and I, huh?” Finally ensued, and gods, wasn’t that depressing statement to make. And she could hear in Aurelia’s voice, in the response, in the ruminations that had been burning against her for an entire season now: I’ve always wanted something better and so have you.
Something far bigger than this.
Her voice was quiet, subdued, accepting because there wasn’t much else to do. No fight here or there, not for someone who’d wanted something and grasped it with both hands. “Well, you’ll have your hands full with this lot.”
Fangorn, tired of it all, rolled his eerie eyes and advanced towards Aurelia – emboldened, audacious, much more like his companion then perhaps he’d ever been given credit for. Certainly the most level-headed between the two, he neared the Arbiter’s side, and sniffed at her shoes. A few low grumbles later, as if this secured all identity issues and crises, the gourd turned his head towards the foolish Melita, who could only hang her hands limply at her sides. “Sorry.” For what, she wasn’t sure. Doubting? The pumpkin gave Aurelia a swift nod, before plodding his way over to the rock again, muttering another round of incoherent jumbles and hisses, but they were likely pertaining to some manner of foolishness.
Her jaw still feathered and her fists clenched afterward on the round of other things though, a barely audible sigh twisting and turning through her chest. Sunjata in need of an Arbiter. There was quite an amount of truth to that statement – and so her eyes flickered down to the ground, to the stones, to everything else that seemed to hurt and notch and bleed, and she couldn’t explain why. “So just Jack and I, huh?” Finally ensued, and gods, wasn’t that depressing statement to make. And she could hear in Aurelia’s voice, in the response, in the ruminations that had been burning against her for an entire season now: I’ve always wanted something better and so have you.
Something far bigger than this.
Her voice was quiet, subdued, accepting because there wasn’t much else to do. No fight here or there, not for someone who’d wanted something and grasped it with both hands. “Well, you’ll have your hands full with this lot.”
trying to hold in the storm
instead of making waves
MELITA
