to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Melita didn’t lean over the boundaries of the cloud, though it was tempting. Instead, she sat very prim and proper as the wind blew against her hair, marking it in all sorts of crimson directions, ensuring Fangorn wasn’t going anywhere from her lap, while looking across at the crag. Were it just her will being capable of summoning relics, some might have sprouted against the outcropping of wet, misshapen rock, but instead, it was merely mist, fog, haze, and disproportionate stone.Her nose wrinkled at the notion of how to describe the landshark to scale. “I’ll show you what I got from it!” and then maybe he could envision it properly. Keeping one arm still wrapped tightly around the grumbling gourd, she opened up her bag to grab the tooth – utterly massive, but weightless, and handed it over to him.
to be the sun
MELITA
