Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
of the women they burned alive
“But not for Torchline,” and she rolled her eyes, heaving a gigantic sigh as they went back and forth. “Think of it like Halo suddenly having green grass. It’s weird.” Unaware that once transpired, being an Outlander and all, the youth shrugged again and began to move to keep herself warm, maneuvering along the portion of her claimed-hill top, feet skimming over the rime held fast there.
“Yeah but the rink was just surrounded by sand. No snow around it or anything.” Another bizarre portion. “We went skating anyway.” Got rid of some bullies. Became triumphant and gloating fixtures on the ice (and by that she meant using the chair and crawling over portions like drunken buffoons).
Wrinkling her nose again, and following after Fangorn’s dragging vines as he sought to match her motions, she strived to remember if they’d ever encountered memory snow. Maybe outside of the beach. “Is that like the memory mud shit?”
“Yeah but the rink was just surrounded by sand. No snow around it or anything.” Another bizarre portion. “We went skating anyway.” Got rid of some bullies. Became triumphant and gloating fixtures on the ice (and by that she meant using the chair and crawling over portions like drunken buffoons).
Wrinkling her nose again, and following after Fangorn’s dragging vines as he sought to match her motions, she strived to remember if they’d ever encountered memory snow. Maybe outside of the beach. “Is that like the memory mud shit?”
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
to bring a whole wildfire to life
