to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Another mess; shambles and movements causing nothing to go quite as planned. What could’ve been a smooth transition ended up with washed away adornments – the bandages gone well before she could even manage to snag at them – an oar simultaneously drifting away. An oath, a curse, snagged along her tongue and behind her teeth, but she managed to pierce them away, back into the thresholds of her mind for another time. Her hands pulled against the boat, intending to help mire it along the shallow shoreline, so that at least there’s an attempt not to lose the vessel too. What good it would be or even matter later on was difficult to say – her mild little hopes had already been dashed. She pulled and salvaged the rope, placing it back in her bag, everything else on her person remaining – her weapons clinging in either her palms or along her back, the daggers returned to Sunjata.
On a bitter sigh, she took hold of the lantern Raza had saved too, holding it aloft as she wound her way to third in line. At this point she wasn’t even bothered to comment on her placement, as if she were one of the weaker, more ineffective ones (because maybe she was), quiet now. Fangorn bounded along her heels, grumbling, either in comfort or some steadfast protection.
--
Melita loses the bandages. She helps pull the boat in, grabs the lantern from Raza, and takes her place as third in line.
to be the sun
MELITA
