MELITA
Melita thrived on challenges, on the daring voids, on the startling provocations, on worlds, whims, and people telling her she couldn’t, and she’d set foot onto the strands, the threads, the tethers simply because of those goading, tangible lines. So her smile bolstered all the more as Lily sought to push herself into becoming better, mightier, braver, even amongst the hesitation – which was far more sensible than the honeybee girl had ever been, eternally twisting and yearning, parading and cavorting into escapades without forethought, without adherence. Where Melita might not have ever thought to segment her fear into heights, into the notion of falling, Lily had likely experienced a realm, a role, in which she had a reason to despair over its torment – the youth was foolish and courageous, but Lily was considerate, contemplative, and thoughtful. At her mention of descents and plummets, the girl’s first notion was to briefly look over the side, not tugging at hands, just a mere shuffle towards the railing. But there was only fog billowing and binding, and she shrugged, meandering back to Lily without any further notation on the matter – nothing to see, nothing to be afraid of. She did ensure her staff and bow were still holstered on her person, and that Fangorn leapt and bounded at her ankles, not straying too far away as they began their strides across, inclining further and further. The subject matter might not have been entirely distracting or diverting, so she pursed her lips and granted some notions, some notations, until she found something worthy of considering their attention spans. “Do you have any favorite stories? I can tell you some of my mother’s!” A hum sequestered itself back under her breath, warm and chipper in the mysterious, enigmatic atmosphere, trying to chase all of Lily’s demons away.
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Disappear into the sun
