to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Fangorn was all the more excited the moment the fish was offered – vines swinging, grumbles restored, acknowledgments and thank yous alive and well in those rumbling conjectures. Sila had yet to be coaxed, but her little snout continued to poke out from behind Melita’s hair, smelling at the food nearby.Another set of haggling began, this time from the kiosk further down the path, for enough dried food portions to be useful during LongNight and whenever they required it within the refuge. Shrugging her shoulders again, and feeling Sila’s talons grip further into her shirt sleeves, another manner and matter of avoidance began to rear its head within her mind. “I’m not picky.”
to be the sun
MELITA
