to be lit up from within
vein by vein
The frustration, the vexation, the weakness curled and stored within her, permitted to leave and vanquish into the surroundings, left her all the more scalded and irritated. She dashed away the remainder of her tears on her cheeks, and leaned back, granting one last sniffle before adjusting herself. Strong. Stalwart. Brave. Potent. Mighty. That’s what she was supposed to be, and her jaw locked, her chin lifted, defiantly in its place, a nod given and granted to him; thankful for his efforts in comfort and sanctity while she became a mess. “Sorry,” she murmured, for she was; apologetic that she’d fizzled and funneled and fell apart into something she didn’t wish, yearn, or crave to be. His question, before she could even get a word out, was answered with a rumble of her stomach – all their haphazard play and swimming rambling into an entangled appetite. As Fangorn hissed and grumbled his desire for food (the Hels never let him get very close), the youth nodded her head again. “Yes. Do we want to go hunt?” A sort of feral smile worked its way back upon her features.
to be the sun
MELITA
