{SE} seashells down by the seashore

MELITA

Plans were easy; it was the following through that could be difficult. But Melita had bees in her head now (literally and figuratively), and not much would stop her save for some other distraction, danger, or interim out at sea. She gave Maeve a swift nod, already weighing and deliberating options within the sand.

The conch turned out not to be touches of merely obsidian, but a range of sunset hues and blends; as she might’ve seen on the bow of the Ark’s deck, as they avoided an impending tempest, or along the range of the sea when everything warned and threatened. Not this one though. “Very pretty,” she murmured and grinned, handing it over to Maeve. “Not quite what you were looking for, but I think it does the trick.” Still beautiful to behold – wild as opposed to just the blinding pieces of darkness. No voids to trace either – picturesque views of what it was like to brave the storm.

help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts