watch her dance, she beckons you
fair warning: leave her to herself
Humming while she sketched, eyes down upon the images, tilting her head back and forth, her eyes only raised back to his when he asked her about the gods. “What do you want to know?” Deities and heralds were broad topics, and unless he wanted her to muse about every aspect of her intervals, adventures, and sojourns, he might crave specifics. She didn’t expect him to be like Oliver, nervously grasping at straws, or ignoring her entirely until much, much later, when he was done listening to himself speak. So the honeybee girl was more than willing to offer up what she had.
Besides, he’d done the same for her, bowing her cranium to listen, then to watch, as he described the scene and illustrated it, recognizing his sister and himself, with plant life crawling along their forms (an inquiry pressed its way into her lungs, but silenced, stifled, somewhere in between). She snorted and laughed as he noted reproductive urges, because she was rampantly immature in those nuances and circumstances. “At least you had a good experience then,” a broadening smile, then returning to her work, fingers swift on the paper.
Besides, he’d done the same for her, bowing her cranium to listen, then to watch, as he described the scene and illustrated it, recognizing his sister and himself, with plant life crawling along their forms (an inquiry pressed its way into her lungs, but silenced, stifled, somewhere in between). She snorted and laughed as he noted reproductive urges, because she was rampantly immature in those nuances and circumstances. “At least you had a good experience then,” a broadening smile, then returning to her work, fingers swift on the paper.
beautiful to see, but poison to touch
calm and chaos, evolved and still evolving
MELITA
