to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
The whole thing had bene relatively effortless; the arrow striking, the Hel falling, and Maeve grabbing. She hadn’t permitted Fangorn and Aidon’s antics to distract or deter her, and it altogether clustered well. She prospered a haughty half-smile as the bird was shoved into the bag, though a semblance of restlessness persevered through her shoulders; as if mildly disappointed that it was over and done with. “There. Seems like you’re all set.” Maybe she hadn’t had enough violence or vehemence, and it left her with the slightest of pouts; limbs constantly ready for some action. “I don’t suppose you need anymore?” Or at least the wild youth appeared far more apt for any excuse to shoot the rest of the flock down into the sand.
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
