MELITA
It wasn’t her job to find the flag. It wasn’t her job to hide the fabric.She was there to defend.
Their plans completed, the girl grabbed hold of her bow, the familiar string and tethers billowing through her soul, a narrowing of her eyes segmented solely on Kiada. Then she pulled one of the arrows lodged in her quiver, felt the brilliant sensation of fire hastened across, along its edges; the Harpy would remember. An inward snicker pulsed within her chest, within her soul, within her mind, but it was too early to be sure, overconfident. All she wanted to do was offer the same violence that the rest of Helovia had seen, had been embedded within. All she wanted was vengeance. All she craved was revenge; an eternal knife-wound in her heart. When their time was up, the arrow was notched, the string pulled back, her aim segmented solely on the opposing woman, and sent flying, snapping, sizzling through the air. It felt like hatred and vitriol, like abhorrence and disdain, like ruin and abominations.
Fangorn, on the other hand, put his nose to the ground, wandering along the perimeter, striving to pick up anyone or anything meandering, slinking, on their portion of designated terrain.
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Once preparations are finished, Melita aims a fire arrow at Kiada. Fangorn is searching their terrain line for anyone trying to sneak in.
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Disappear into the sun
