Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
Adherence and compliance, while not one of her strong suits, implored here, and she assisted in raising the ramphire when and where directed. Her short sword placed on her hilt, another hum hastened under her breath, calm and tranquil, as she eyed, surveyed, the beast on a closer inspection than when it’d been first felled. Horns and feathers for Nate, the medicinal properties he’d spoken of earlier? She tilted her head a fraction, eyes going to the tools they’d be using. “Do you know what the horns and feathers contain?” Questions she might’ve asked her mother, a grand healer in her own right, if she’d been even remotely interested in her childhood. But her intrigue and curiosity had been instilled towards flames and fury, trials and tribulations, instigating, agitating, and fighting.
She pushed the thought aside, delving into what was necessary now. “What do you want me to do?” Never squeamish at the sight of blood, having seen too much of it within her lifetime, her gilded gaze went straight to her uncle, fervent, eager to help.
She pushed the thought aside, delving into what was necessary now. “What do you want me to do?” Never squeamish at the sight of blood, having seen too much of it within her lifetime, her gilded gaze went straight to her uncle, fervent, eager to help.
Melita
