MELITA
Her eyes scanned merchants’ wares, an all-consuming, effervescent smile, a bobbing of her head in time with comments and shopkeeper persuasions, lifting and lilting notes still managing to scramble from a world that seemed cold and fraught. But then again, perhaps one could always say the same of the Hollowed Grounds, of the Rift, who’d never been caught without some sort of bedlam or disaster clutched in its grasp.She didn’t expect the voice bounding from her side, swinging her gaze to Loren: familiar and unwanted. The layered grin fumbled into a frown, and she didn’t bother hiding the motion, the nuance, Fangorn somewhere by her ankles, hissing and grumbling a greeting to Astra that would likely go unnoticed as soon as some fan hit particular flames. The girl inclined her stare elsewhere almost immediately, as if the man wasn’t worth her time, narrowing the gold into slits, casting aloft at scenery on the horizon, on castles and palisades nearby. “Exploring,” a shrug across her shoulders, a clench to her jaw, a dangerous outset brimming along and behind her bones. “You?”
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
Give the bruises out like gifts
