MELITA
Melita’s bow was with her today, the quiver tight along her back, the sensation of adventure maneuvering her forward and onward, ghosting and coasting along the fragments of places she was somewhat familiar with. The bleached array of the Bone Bridge heightened and plucked at her senses, the emboldened traces of her foundation maneuvering her closer and closer; Fangorn tucked at her ankles, doing the same. She lifted her face to the wind and caught the start of a song, high and then lilting, pressed between rock and crag, and she hummed it beneath her breath, striving to match it pitch for pitch, but lacking the tunes, the ability; melding and molding under its hallowed sanctions, closing her eyes for an instant simply to savor: the chill, the sonnets, the stanzas, and the strains.When she reopened them, another had materialized out of the fog and earth – and she’d recognize the flaming hair anywhere, for they had matching adornments – crying out and waving as she loomed and advanced. “Lily!” She cried and gestured, another piece of the labyrinth and warren, racing forward, Fangorn striving to keep up with massive bounds and launches of his own. When she finally caught up to the other woman, her inquiries were breathless, but tender, warm and bright. “What are you doing out here?” She was smiles and grins, effervescence and ebullience, as part of the earth and sky and gulf down below, ready to sink into its measures with no folly, no thought, no beacon. But was Lily? Had curiosity driven her to these fathoms, where the wind whistled, where the enigmatic twitched, pulsed, and waited? Where monsters might have roamed, far, far below?
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Disappear into the sun
