Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
Any other time, Melita might have been surprised by someone else’s concern over her. It didn’t happen very often, given her potential for ruin and vitriol, and multitudes along Torchline were used to seeing some modicum of blood on her. Vaguely touched, but not enough to acknowledge it openly, the youth simply persisted and continued in her haste for vehemence and glory. She didn’t even see Fangorn rolling his eyes.
There was a feral little grin wrapped around her mouth the moment her staff snagged at Sohalia’s ankles, but either the headache or Cheshire stupidity left her unable to fully fend off the next round. Intending to duck and dodge, her evasion was a little subdued, and she was left with a tap along her shoulders too. “Nice,” she offered instead of a hiss, content with the potential of another bruise, before winding back in return, persistent in striving towards a fast and vicious swing near the Attuned’s ribs.
There was a feral little grin wrapped around her mouth the moment her staff snagged at Sohalia’s ankles, but either the headache or Cheshire stupidity left her unable to fully fend off the next round. Intending to duck and dodge, her evasion was a little subdued, and she was left with a tap along her shoulders too. “Nice,” she offered instead of a hiss, content with the potential of another bruise, before winding back in return, persistent in striving towards a fast and vicious swing near the Attuned’s ribs.
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
