Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
All of that just meant it’d spread further, widening, branching out like a storm, and she hid her apprehension in her skin, where her fingers subtley shook while she grabbed hold of debris. The rest was meant simply for distraction, snagging at broken bits and pieces, chucking them into the refuse pile; nothing of worth amounting to them now.
Poor, poor Milo. His luck continued to never actually surface, remain, or exist, and though he took a far wiser approach, the inanimate objects seemed to take great umbrage at his presence. While he managed to clench at one, there was another further down that had decided to become entangled, and with the movement, the motion, it was jarred. And sent flying.
Straight for the man’s arm.
Melita winced from afar, a nose wrinkling. “Do…do you want to do something else?”
Arialla’s distraction would pay off for her though – the wild youth watching from nearby, curiosity piqued. Her further digging would reveal a mirror, the same ornate detailing etched along the sides, mermaid tails and then inclinations of shells embedded, gilded, into the sanction. The glass, however, would be cracked right through the middle. What would she do with it?
--
Milo cannot pick up a piece of wood without injuring himelf.
Melita finds nothing of worth and keeps piling away.
Arialla has found a very nice mirror, but the glass is cracked!
Poor, poor Milo. His luck continued to never actually surface, remain, or exist, and though he took a far wiser approach, the inanimate objects seemed to take great umbrage at his presence. While he managed to clench at one, there was another further down that had decided to become entangled, and with the movement, the motion, it was jarred. And sent flying.
Straight for the man’s arm.
Melita winced from afar, a nose wrinkling. “Do…do you want to do something else?”
Arialla’s distraction would pay off for her though – the wild youth watching from nearby, curiosity piqued. Her further digging would reveal a mirror, the same ornate detailing etched along the sides, mermaid tails and then inclinations of shells embedded, gilded, into the sanction. The glass, however, would be cracked right through the middle. What would she do with it?
--
Melita finds nothing of worth and keeps piling away.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
