to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
A vigorous handshake followed by warm laughter rang from her throat; days stretching beyond despair and sorrow, potential danger, were exactly what she required, leaping straight into the clutches of foretold doom and disaster one of her favorite activities. When they neared the entrance, she placed Fangorn down, allowed him to inspect the roots and stumps, the granules of collected moss and woven fibers of earth intertwining along the ground. She hastened and pursued, towards the left, taking a different direction than all her other ventures, eager to taste, to relish, in the flurry of possibilities, the stretch of ominous, foreboding incantations clambering over her skin, and gods, she didn’t care.
She glanced over her shoulder, over her quiver, over the lacquered lines of the staff pulsing in her hand, back to Kai, the inquiries coming and her devilish smile imploring. “I think we should try!” If her grin could be anymore irreverent, they might’ve been damned and consigned from the start. “Maybe treasure! Or some ancient thing!” The speculation could’ve been wild and savage too – her eyes drifting to the high hedges, to the overgrown grove, to the arching ridges of things that were neither sanctity nor abolished ruin. Into the darkness, into the surge of nothing, like a rolling abyss, and gathered to protect what?. Perhaps she should’ve just hoped they found something that wouldn’t try to swallow, devour, and consume them whole.
Melita listened to more of his musings as she hastened along more twists and turns, humming an indistinct tune, one her sister might’ve warbled amongst daffodils, amongst thistles, amongst things made of peace and repose; not in a world of sedition and vehemence. “What do you mean?” She wondered aloud; that the plants here were more than just collections of things stretching towards the sun? Did he perceive them as thinking individuals and inhabitants, just like them?
She glanced over her shoulder, over her quiver, over the lacquered lines of the staff pulsing in her hand, back to Kai, the inquiries coming and her devilish smile imploring. “I think we should try!” If her grin could be anymore irreverent, they might’ve been damned and consigned from the start. “Maybe treasure! Or some ancient thing!” The speculation could’ve been wild and savage too – her eyes drifting to the high hedges, to the overgrown grove, to the arching ridges of things that were neither sanctity nor abolished ruin. Into the darkness, into the surge of nothing, like a rolling abyss, and gathered to protect what?. Perhaps she should’ve just hoped they found something that wouldn’t try to swallow, devour, and consume them whole.
Melita listened to more of his musings as she hastened along more twists and turns, humming an indistinct tune, one her sister might’ve warbled amongst daffodils, amongst thistles, amongst things made of peace and repose; not in a world of sedition and vehemence. “What do you mean?” She wondered aloud; that the plants here were more than just collections of things stretching towards the sun? Did he perceive them as thinking individuals and inhabitants, just like them?
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
