[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

“It must be lovely,” she mused, humming under her breath, arms and hands tucked along her basket, imagining what it would be like to alter and change her appearance to an animal – living, breathing carnivores hastening and hunting down her prey, rampaging, when no one could ever doubt who the bigger, badder monster was (demons in her blood, fiends in her soul). Even though she was without those pleasant invocations or enchantments, for anything really, the youth had still managed to live and survive. She summoned the depths of her own power. She summoned her strength, her conviction, her rebellion. Maybe one day that’d be enough. “That sounds good!” She assured the bard, nodding at the addition to sitting outside, so she was neither trespassing nor indulging in something she should not. Water would be absolutely divine, especially now, when the sun’s rays pushed and persisted, gilded more than just her eyes, her skin sporting a healthier, if somewhat redder, glow. But it was her god too, now more than ever (since none of the ones here seemed to respond, to see her, to know her), so she had no problem lifting her face to its intricate rays and absorbing its heat, its power, its constancy. The girl was about to shake her head at any indication for food, but then her stomach rumbled, disagreeing entirely with her intention to refuse, and Fangorn snarled and sneered in approval. “Perhaps…apparently the insects weren’t very filling.” She looked down and arched her brow at the little beast, who managed to prosper a menacing grin in return. She followed, Jigano seeming to know the way quite well, and she presumed that he and Rory were great, grand friends, capable of lending wares and sanctums whenever necessary. Perhaps that was why he’d guarded it so diligently – afraid the farmer’s threshold would come to ruin on the touches and fringes of fire. She settled her basket in the shade, and then persevered towards the water pump, taking hold of the proffered mug and waiting for the precious liquid to start flowing, utterly parched from their earlier chase and rendezvous. Jigano’s affable nature continued, and the girl settled into silence, listening for a spell instead of roaming further into curiosity, dismay, or any other intricate emotion scorching its way through her blood and bone. “Nice to meet you too.” Her smile was generous and uplifting, innocent in its luminescence when underneath she was anything but. His request was intriguing, and she lifted her brows, then furrowed them down, pondering why he would want any tale of hers – the girl who endured and lived when others did not. “My story?” She paused, puzzling which contortion to spin. “What would you like to know?” How she’d survived? Where she’d come from? What brought her here? What nightmares still unraveled her? There were a thousand things she could have lifted and pulled, but not without some direction, some clarity, some rhyme or reason. Her tales were precious, but if she never let anyone else hear them, then the beatific tapestries and canvases of her mother, of her sister, of the Dragon’s Throat, of the Sun God, would eventually die with her. 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