Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
With naught to go off of their latest adventure within the Obsidian Cathedral, Melita was all the more frustrated and motivated – her frenetic pace indicating the air of molten, feral savagery pervading her roaming essence, a stormfront, a tempestuous edge to her fiery abyss. She wanted to do something, find anything that could provide some benefit to those afflicted, to either assist in a permanent cure, or some substance for the Ascended to use. The flowers were along the back of her mind, figuring she could always march and stomp over to the Springs if nothing came to fruition here –
Wherever here was.
Cave mouths came along her sights, and she slowed, ceasing momentarily to allow Fangorn to catch up, hitching her quiver further up her shoulders, and the satchel notched on one arm. She could hear the rush of water nearby, clear indications of falls, reminding her of the Greatwood expanse, increasing, encouraging, some amount of hope. Maybe there’d be an element here, of worth, and more than just mere speculation.
She wasn’t alone though – gaze catching on an unfamiliar figure looming nearby, and she stopped altogether as her gourd promptly came to rest at her ankles; a breath flickering and flowing through her lungs, tension riddled and rankled for multitudes of reasons and foundations. “Hello,” she offered quietly, before wandering forward, clearly intending to pass.
Wherever here was.
Cave mouths came along her sights, and she slowed, ceasing momentarily to allow Fangorn to catch up, hitching her quiver further up her shoulders, and the satchel notched on one arm. She could hear the rush of water nearby, clear indications of falls, reminding her of the Greatwood expanse, increasing, encouraging, some amount of hope. Maybe there’d be an element here, of worth, and more than just mere speculation.
She wasn’t alone though – gaze catching on an unfamiliar figure looming nearby, and she stopped altogether as her gourd promptly came to rest at her ankles; a breath flickering and flowing through her lungs, tension riddled and rankled for multitudes of reasons and foundations. “Hello,” she offered quietly, before wandering forward, clearly intending to pass.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
