MELITA
The sensation of being watched had never truly left Melita – something akin to the Rift would always live inside her, embroiled and sizzling in her veins, catching and snagging at otherwise exuberant or enticing nuances. It prickled and seared over the edges of her shoulders again, repelling down the length of her spine. She heard Phoebe’s explanations – how she wanted to protect children, how she didn’t want to be useless, how she didn’t always want to be a sitting duck…But she was distracted and deterred from responding by the encroaching predators. Fangorn hissed, then growled, intending to make himself known to those lurking on the fringes of shadows, imploring some ravenous declaration in hopes it would discourage the hungry canines from approaching or continuing in their carnivore pursuit. The wild girl looked to the paws slinking and crawling from beneath the veils and shrouds of darkness, the hungry, sunken in sides and jutting ribs of the monsters leering and encircling; desperation had made them appeal to hunting those they’d ordinarily fear. “Wolves,” Melita declared, swinging her staff in front of her frame, two hands ready and eager to wield. She’d seen her fair share in the Rift, some patron gods looking to prey upon all of their ignorant souls (ghosts; looming, spectral shades donning their immaculate, unattainable garb, rising catacombs looming in the distance). But she wasn’t about to become another hapless victim, so poor, pitiful little miscreant shuffling to the corner to await their doom and damnation. She’d lived through too much to succumb here.
“A portal would be handy here. But, we’ll need to be the bigger monsters,” she announced loudly, a barking, maddening sound, a minatory grin contorting over her lips, the only warning she proffered to Phoebe before she swung her staff. She intended to thrust it over the top of two of the wolves closing in around her, Fangorn shuffling in between her legs (growling and hissing all the more), and then allow it to descend in mighty blows across the top of their skulls, grounding herself so they were more precise, more accurate. She’d learned. She’d show them all. The youth tossed one more command over her shoulder to the other girl, because she was going to have to do something in this arena. “Grab anything. A rock, a stick. Swing it at them. Hit them.”
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
