MELITA
“Seasonal deities,” she mused and repeated, sipping more water, considering it as she swished it along her teeth and cheeks. How many more heralds and cosmic beings were there? Were they all ensconced, trapped, underneath some greater plain, some tidal wave of coiled powers? Why had they been smothered and hidden the entire time? Some portion of her dreaded the outcome, mainly due to Kaos and all the other unraveled multitudes that came from the false paragon’s actions. Another remained insatiably curious, a little envious of the upcoming adventure – but then again, she’d have her own soon enough. One deity, if they were segmented into such elements, surrounded by lava and heat contorted up her alley – a small measure of sorrow clenched over her heart, for the loss of their beloved Sun God, no longer amidst the Dragon’s Throat (no one was). “Well, if we’re going by seasons, then it’d be four total, right?” She wrinkled her nose in jest, before her fingers starting on the edges of her cup. “A Longheat herald sounds wonderful.”
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
Give the bruises out like gifts
