shards of iron and ice

MELITA

Anything goes, like she’d even have a chance without magic, without shifting, without all the other additions everyone else seemed to embody and inhabit. Her weapons would only go so far – he’d shown her that when she was blighted, snapping, her arrows meaningless in fits of levitation. She still didn’t look at him, rolling her eyes hard into the sky, into the passing landscape of heavy stone and frost. “What would be the point? You wouldn’t play fair.” Had he come over here just to pick a fight? What on earth was this man’s problem?

He could doubt her all he liked. She knew her worth. She knew her value. She knew some aspect of limitations (and sometimes railroaded over them). Her experiences with Loren had taught her things though, strangled in those moments of screams and pain, unforeseen torment; what should’ve been safe, what should’ve been fine, had eclipsed and shattered.

Grand Healer; she snorted at that too. “Do you injure all of your patients first?” Does that make you feel better?

help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts