Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
Melita knew this ritual well, and a smile flickered back upon her face, even if she was wary of whatever was hovering around them. “Keep it with you for now. At the end of the season, we’ll have a Festival of Lights somewhere. There we hang them, and wait for Ludo to choose someone. Then they might see their loved ones again.” She made no mention of that previous year, when the Voice had ensured some of her own marched back onto the living, breathing earth too.
Gathering up her own particles and pieces, she gave another grin. “Thank you for helping me. We can head back to the market, if you want, and snag something to eat.” For the youth, nor Fangorn, would be satisfied on potatoes or bananas alone.
{FIN}
Gathering up her own particles and pieces, she gave another grin. “Thank you for helping me. We can head back to the market, if you want, and snag something to eat.” For the youth, nor Fangorn, would be satisfied on potatoes or bananas alone.
{FIN}
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
