to be lit up from within
vein by vein
The game was over before it’d even truly begun – her eyes catching their strides winding down, the defeated look to their shoulders. The honeybee girl tried to hide her disappointment in not being pressed into some onslaught, some anarchy, some relish of debacles, excitement, danger, and treachery – but perhaps those would be best saved for future footholds. Her pace slowed to match Harper’s, no longer sprinting headlong through the sand, meandering through pockets of other people, blending into surroundings and situations. She waved to a few she might’ve known from market squares and pavilions, or those who knew her from the Ark, otherwise falling quietly into modest footfalls, staff in her grasp and quiver lightly bounding against her back.She arched her brow at his fox-like grin, and couldn’t help but render her own Cheshire appearance, an unmistakable round of mischief and glee. “Can’t say that I blame them,” resounded in a light laugh; she might’ve done the same – chasing and rampaging until someone received her message loud and clear. Fangorn was placed down on the sand once more, and the gourd relished not being jostled around by Melita’s unrelenting grasp, shaking a few vines here or there and conjuring strange looks from locals.
“Oh, I’m never bored,” the youth conjured giggles again – fairly true – because she’d always managed to find some sort of ridiculous situation to put herself within. Equal parts curiosity, intrigue, and boldness settled into her ether and manifested an assortment of beliefs in conquering minute aspects of the world. “I was testing my speed,” she hummed, deciding to skip along the tide as it wandered in and out, touched along the tips of her toes.
to be the sun
MELITA
