M E L I T A
She squeezed Lily’s hand back, intertwining her fingers in comfort and solidarity as the song washed over the valley, as the glowing ramparts hastened closer and closer, as she smiled in the softening dusk. The girl didn’t think about the lyrics or stanzas, the melancholy atmosphere drenching its heights and falls, but to the luxere, because she favored their open expressions over the longing twisting and turning through each line. “I’ll get us some apples,” she whispered back, releasing her hands to return to her satchel, sitting where she’d left it. Her eyes darted over her shoulder, but the luxere were mesmerized, not going anywhere, enchanted and lured, just as much as she, and she could feel something want to break over her, right then and there. She’d never quite grieved the missing parts of her life – and she swallowed them down now too, ruffling in her back for the apples she still had, a little battered, a little bruised, but she figured the deer wouldn’t mind.
Melita returned quickly, eternally efficient, sliding one of the fruits into the palm of Lily’s hand. “Offer it to them,” she winked and encouraged, then did the same, lifting her palm containing the crimson reward towards the incoming deer, following the pattern she’d begun with Rexanna.
