Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
of the women they burned alive
Melita was a child of the desert, first and foremost. The sand had been something she’d known for an eternity, no matter which world she spiraled into. The snow had been a distant figment; like tales of the Basin, or an inclination to visit Halo – never definitive, never pressed into her wake unless she needed to.
Stepping outside of her home, seeing the snow, and feeling the balmy winds, had somewhat of a shock.
“What the fuck,” had been uttered along her breath from the moment she began hiking along Apopo, mostly to get a measure of just how far this cold extended. Sila had long since unfurled her wings above the Honeybee’s head, stretching them out and seemingly unbothered by it all, while Fangorn complained and whined in equal measure with his bonded. “Why is it like this,” sent her teeth chattering, as she’d carried on without a jacket – bullheaded and mistakenly thinking the weather would turn into something else as she meandered across the usually green and fertile landscape.
And then, glancing over for a seventh time in hopes of not seeing snow, there was that doofus courier.
She blinked rapidly. Maybe she was hallucinating about being in Halo, because that might make more sense. Instead though, she offered a snort from her higher vantage point, a greeting that resounded with a lack of any formality. “What are you doing here?”
Stepping outside of her home, seeing the snow, and feeling the balmy winds, had somewhat of a shock.
“What the fuck,” had been uttered along her breath from the moment she began hiking along Apopo, mostly to get a measure of just how far this cold extended. Sila had long since unfurled her wings above the Honeybee’s head, stretching them out and seemingly unbothered by it all, while Fangorn complained and whined in equal measure with his bonded. “Why is it like this,” sent her teeth chattering, as she’d carried on without a jacket – bullheaded and mistakenly thinking the weather would turn into something else as she meandered across the usually green and fertile landscape.
And then, glancing over for a seventh time in hopes of not seeing snow, there was that doofus courier.
She blinked rapidly. Maybe she was hallucinating about being in Halo, because that might make more sense. Instead though, she offered a snort from her higher vantage point, a greeting that resounded with a lack of any formality. “What are you doing here?”
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
to bring a whole wildfire to life