but there's chaos brewing
underneath my skin
There wasn’t any time to glean satisfaction from the hit that brought Aurelia down; besides, Melita only truly gloated when overcoming an enemy, or an adversary. Her, once, fellow smuggler was neither of those things, and even through these tumultuous, tempestuous times, the honeybee still clung to such values.
Thereafter, she chose her defensive stance, expecting a rise from the sand, from the dirt, from the soil, some manner of vitriol and vehemence to overcome. Not a full blown charge, headlong into the waves.
But that’s what they did – her body bending and swaying to the motions, falling off the shoreline and into the coast itself, with a powerful oof flailing from her lungs, from her breath. And then a laugh, because while Aurelia would likely sink, Melita remained firmly on the surface, laid out across its veneer, the anklet almost eternally in place; the charms bobbing up and down.
There would be a sore ribcage tomorrow, based on these tactics, but she rose on another giggle, standing atop the unfurling current like a nymph with a vengeance – rounding a kick towards the Arbiter.
Thereafter, she chose her defensive stance, expecting a rise from the sand, from the dirt, from the soil, some manner of vitriol and vehemence to overcome. Not a full blown charge, headlong into the waves.
But that’s what they did – her body bending and swaying to the motions, falling off the shoreline and into the coast itself, with a powerful oof flailing from her lungs, from her breath. And then a laugh, because while Aurelia would likely sink, Melita remained firmly on the surface, laid out across its veneer, the anklet almost eternally in place; the charms bobbing up and down.
There would be a sore ribcage tomorrow, based on these tactics, but she rose on another giggle, standing atop the unfurling current like a nymph with a vengeance – rounding a kick towards the Arbiter.
trying to hold in the storm
instead of making waves
MELITA
