to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Her eyes narrowed, all suspicion and vehement force, and remaining so even as the man announced and introduced himself. It took a few moments for the tension in her frame to slacken, though her fists didn’t come away from the rocks – molding her fingers carefully over their serrated edges. Her eyes went from Darkeye, and back to Fangorn, protective and unyielding – as there’d been seasons where individuals hunted down his species. “They’re like pumpkins. Only they come alive.” And try to bite ankles, but she left that part out. Used to being subjected to scrutiny, the aforementioned gourd waved his long vines and tendrils around, but scooted closer to the nest Melita was building. She raised her head, a matter and manner of defiance with the way her chin jutted upwards, promising something justified and quick if necessary. “I’m Melita. And only if you promise not to harm him.”
to be the sun
MELITA
