[SE] Catch the Sun Before It Sparks Afire

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

When a voice managed to crawl its way through the air, without a croak or crackle, floating through mouths and lips instead of beaks, she jumped; but just slightly, whipping her head back towards her name laced and lanced with inquiry. Her eyes adjusted accordingly from their widened, surprised, befuddled efforts; taking in the shape of the tall, lanky ivory-tasseled man, recognizing the figure from a host of other events and festivals, but never having a name attached to the face. Reality dawned on her seconds later, processing intervals and experiences – like with Remi, lion-hearted, before a proclamation clambered out of her mouth, hands still full of flinthopper ruins. “Oh, you shift too!” A smile glimmered on the edges of her lips, pushing down the envious designs of her mind – because how wonderful and amazing it would be to be able to do half the things these other beings could manifest and claim. The best things she had were endurance and fortitude, might and persistence, capable of bending her will into the earth eventually, as if it had to cave in at some point in time, corrode beneath her palms, fists, and savage little steps. I don’t have any talents, she almost thought to say, hanging her head lowly, but it remained, steady and stalwart, gazing back at wisdom and sagacity, more things she’d yet to acquire or maintain. “You’re welcome!” She proffered back, always content, happy, and eager to help; a call-back to the days in the Rift, when assistance was a necessity, a requirement to make it to the end of the day. The offer to wander into Rory’s home though, seemed a little off, as if she shouldn’t trespass. She licked her lips in passing, however, thinking of water passing down her throat in the sultry swing of the sun. Fangorn made his intentions perfectly clear by accepting the invitation on their behalf, much like he’d done with Ronin when she showed even the slightest hesitation, bounding beneath fence posts and growling at the latest insect struggling to dodge his menacing fangs. Melita shook her head, wild, crimson locks flowing, clambering over her shoulders, before sighing, accepting the notion. “I don’t want to intrude…as long as you believe he’d be all right with it.” Rory was kind and obliging, but she didn’t want to take advantage of his benevolence, bending slightly to grab hold of her basket, now filled with more flinthopper carcasses, before returning to her prior position, half-grin aloft, waiting for further notice to continue, too much of her boldness finessed into Fangorn’s efforts – long gone, ambling along the farm. M e l i t a But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power I'll find a way to be without you, babe