to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
Good enough could have any kind of connotation, inspiring the slightest of smirks and snickers back out of the honeybee child’s rue and regret – leaning back away from the table to glance at him again. She wasn’t even remotely surprised by the chaos he’d recollected, after all the stories, after all the nuances and truth he’d shared, drunken exploits thereafter, a way to stave off something else like pain or misery, the youth could guess. Her hands still meandered along Fangorn, pressing and scratching, listening to the gourd purr in contentment, something neither of them had held in weeks. “You’ve been busy.” Fires and monsters, a similar pattern, gaze glancing downward upon her companion, then lifting again, contemplating how best to respond when she didn’t really have the answers either.
“We all made it out.” The girl shrugged, but her mind was still a reeling mess, a conflagration just the same, irritated, irked, and annoyed at herself for any number of reasons. “The fire started in the back. There really wasn’t anything we could do. We thought there were monsters in the guild too.” Considering the amount of bodies they’d held within, Roana (which still gave her a bit of a chill; one of her first mentors, teaching her skills to fight, to persist, to continue in making some gains in the art of precision), Caiside (which stung too; her only memories of him had been someone kind, someone generous, someone benevolent), and Cera (which hurt far, far more, a deep, throbbing pang that she’d barely got to see him again – the Golden Prince from the same desert sands, now no more). She bit her lip, caught herself doing the weak, vulnerable action, and then ceased it immediately, brows furrowing in contemplation, while her eyes wandered down to the table, to some of the food she’d only picked and nibbled at. “Did you guys lose anyone?”
“We all made it out.” The girl shrugged, but her mind was still a reeling mess, a conflagration just the same, irritated, irked, and annoyed at herself for any number of reasons. “The fire started in the back. There really wasn’t anything we could do. We thought there were monsters in the guild too.” Considering the amount of bodies they’d held within, Roana (which still gave her a bit of a chill; one of her first mentors, teaching her skills to fight, to persist, to continue in making some gains in the art of precision), Caiside (which stung too; her only memories of him had been someone kind, someone generous, someone benevolent), and Cera (which hurt far, far more, a deep, throbbing pang that she’d barely got to see him again – the Golden Prince from the same desert sands, now no more). She bit her lip, caught herself doing the weak, vulnerable action, and then ceased it immediately, brows furrowing in contemplation, while her eyes wandered down to the table, to some of the food she’d only picked and nibbled at. “Did you guys lose anyone?”
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
