Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
The letter crumpled into a ball in her hand, smushed between contempt, frustration, and some trace amount of bitterness. There were multitudes of reasons for it; some irrational, some reasonable, all pinpointed and segmented on lives uprooted and tossed haphazardly, as always. Maybe she should’ve always known better.
A few stones were kicked out of her path, and Fangorn knew better with the storm in her brow to march forward – trailing behind her, his residual vines snaking out along the sand. Her head refused to bow now though, and she tilted her cheeks to the autumn breeze along the coast as it whipped and cajoled, the turbulence much the same in her blood, in her bones. Some other hurricane brewing; beseeching, brimming. The weaponry, as always, bounded against her back as her legs took long, sweeping strides, covering over the beach as if she had a mission, when it was only to rush about and figure out what the hell she was going to do next. What to say. What to feel.
Her name tossed along the wind caused her head to tilt over her shoulder; recognizing Locke instantly. That he’d be calling out to her was surprising – most of her crewmates were over her shenanigans in one trip and left her alone for the rest of the season. “Oh, hi Locke,” she waved, ceasing only a moment as he trailed over. “Yeah. It’s nice to be home.” Though that was momentarily stifled by other news. Still, she didn’t remain vastly unpleasant, a little smile tucked in the corner of her mouth that signified nothing of the fire stoking in her mind. “What are you up to?”
A few stones were kicked out of her path, and Fangorn knew better with the storm in her brow to march forward – trailing behind her, his residual vines snaking out along the sand. Her head refused to bow now though, and she tilted her cheeks to the autumn breeze along the coast as it whipped and cajoled, the turbulence much the same in her blood, in her bones. Some other hurricane brewing; beseeching, brimming. The weaponry, as always, bounded against her back as her legs took long, sweeping strides, covering over the beach as if she had a mission, when it was only to rush about and figure out what the hell she was going to do next. What to say. What to feel.
Her name tossed along the wind caused her head to tilt over her shoulder; recognizing Locke instantly. That he’d be calling out to her was surprising – most of her crewmates were over her shenanigans in one trip and left her alone for the rest of the season. “Oh, hi Locke,” she waved, ceasing only a moment as he trailed over. “Yeah. It’s nice to be home.” Though that was momentarily stifled by other news. Still, she didn’t remain vastly unpleasant, a little smile tucked in the corner of her mouth that signified nothing of the fire stoking in her mind. “What are you up to?”
Melita
