MELITA
For all the length of time Melita had spent amidst the Grounds, it was intriguing to hear she’d somehow missed the tumbleweeds. There was a large array of other things placed within the stretch of woodlands that she’d seen: some things hunted, like banshees, and far more innocent figures. Her eyes went towards the companions stretching out along the beach, racing across the heavens and havens, and she shook her head. “Will you have anything to do with the Dragoons in Stormbreak, now that you have him?” Uncertain where it would all boil down to in the end – knowing Seren’s role, and Ronin’s attempted recruitments.No one had been looking for any smugglers or cannoneers with fire in their blood and vampire gourds at their side; but that had seemed too oddly specific.
They maneuvered, unlike the companions, at a far more diligent pace, scouring more spaces on the sand not occupied by passersby or vacationers. Melita found another spot close to Maeve, and sifted all over again, hands busy, mind never quite idle. “Oh, that does sound nice. My mother was a healer,” and here she smiled, imagining the rows of herbs drying out, gardens upon gardens tended by gentle, obliging fingers. The youth clearly hadn’t adopted the same pursuits. “What kind of blends of tea?” Merely by curiosity, tones muffled and quiet while concentration bore down in her furrowed brow, lifting out a lovely little junonia.
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
Give the bruises out like gifts
