but there's chaos brewing
underneath my skin
She donned a smug little smile at the compliments; fully confident in her own abilities, enough weapons at her disposal to ensure not many would bother her. She’d grown from the child left in the Rift, tossing stones and sticks at monsters. The youth wrinkled her nose once more, and winked back. “Do you know how to use any weapons?” She presumed sailors must have some means of defending themselves, especially out at sea, or whenever they managed to reach shore. Plus, she’d like to know if there was anyone she could spar with, constantly honing and practicing her munitions.
At his grimace of the quartermaster’s chattiness, she raised her brows, but didn’t say indicate anything otherwise. “That’s all right. I can be the same way.” Another shrug, infinite bounds of mischief entangling somewhere in the midst; Fangorn growling in her arms in response, until she set him down on the bunk, allowed him a moment to breathe.
At his grimace of the quartermaster’s chattiness, she raised her brows, but didn’t say indicate anything otherwise. “That’s all right. I can be the same way.” Another shrug, infinite bounds of mischief entangling somewhere in the midst; Fangorn growling in her arms in response, until she set him down on the bunk, allowed him a moment to breathe.
trying to hold in the storm
instead of making waves
MELITA
