there's always a glimmer in those
Her hands were still busy, gaze down on the basket, forming the top of the handles, drawing them together in a somewhat, knotted contortion, striving to resemble a bow. All the while though she listened to Phoebe, nodding back and forth at Pim, because companions were wonderful (a wink extended towards Fangorn in his leaf nest), and relationships with deities, no matter how far. But when the inquiry was extended back towards her, the girl had to still, contemplate. Melita measured her successes by adventure, danger, thresholds of mischief and joy, tilting her head a fraction, an obvious pondering settling along her face. “I met some great friends and family.” A start, humming a little under her breath once more. “Received a beautiful staff from Ludo,” and her palms kept roaming, closer and closer to the fronds and stalks she plaited and braided. “And helped defeat a giant vampire gourd.” The last statement was on a feral set to her grin. Nothing about being consumed by the blight. Nothing about falling to pieces beneath shrines with no responses. Nothing about the echoes of failure tied to her blood, beating, beating, beating the same crescendo day after day.
who have been through the dark
MELITA
