Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Nosey and with a penchant for wandering was all the excuse Melita needed to meander from the skyport, and village, and into the brink of the Greatwood. It’d been a long time since she’d advanced her way through the woven layers of trees, canopies, boughs, and branches, and the alteration in years showed – her mouth a widening gape of curiosity, expression, and bewilderment.
“Wow, what are those?” She dashed towards a pool near one of the looming timber, but Fangorn seemed unnerved by it entirely, so the youth could only breeze by. “Fiiiine,” she uttered, but not before closing in on some portions of the world that were still familiar to her – peppermint bark.
Prying it off of one of the nearby trees, she munched for a moment, before handing some little pieces to Sila and Fangorn respectively, skipping along further, continuing to eye the water nearby.
“Wow, what are those?” She dashed towards a pool near one of the looming timber, but Fangorn seemed unnerved by it entirely, so the youth could only breeze by. “Fiiiine,” she uttered, but not before closing in on some portions of the world that were still familiar to her – peppermint bark.
Prying it off of one of the nearby trees, she munched for a moment, before handing some little pieces to Sila and Fangorn respectively, skipping along further, continuing to eye the water nearby.
I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
