Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
of the women they burned alive
Acceptance of the potential adapting and adopting of skills sent the grin scheming back over her features. Whether or not the crafty, tempestuous-lined smile meant a good or bad omen for Aurelia would remain to be seen – but the excitement careening through the restless honeybee would be enough to sate her for the moment. “Excellent.” She peered over, to glance at the knife, different from her daggers in its shape and consideration, nodding pleasantly.
Discussion of the Ark, its massive, incoming size even over the monumental, never-ending sea, made her furrow her brows slightly, not losing her defiant etchings, sketchings, or tenacity, a promise of its predilections remaining firmly on the surface. “I should probably ask Jack first, so he doesn’t get all broody and grumpy again.” A seditious lift of her chin echoed and occurred regardless, the grin turning into a snicker – mostly because of the time she’d summoned Ludo to assist in them getting the ship safely home. Another roll of her shoulders, and the moment was gone, focusing on the knowledge of weaponry once more.
“Mhm,” she hummed over the droning of the sparks, the electricity, in her hands. The sizzle reminded her of so many things – reflecting puddles in the midst of thunderstorms, in the play of best friends, in the alterations of Helovia and the Rift, in the scars puckered down her back, in the anglings of changes and distinction in power. But she needed no further encouragement as Aurelia pointed to the whale dummy, as she notched the bristling connotations, as she drew back, and listened to it whistle through the air.
Sharp and caustic, it flickered and beck and called to the target, a siren’s song, hastening toward’s the dummy’s spine again, and lodging into the painted adornments. In a spectacular display, the elements crackled, bit, and tore through the goal, flaring with zaps, flares, and flints, and destroying what was left of the ghost whale effigy.
If only things were ever that simple.
Discussion of the Ark, its massive, incoming size even over the monumental, never-ending sea, made her furrow her brows slightly, not losing her defiant etchings, sketchings, or tenacity, a promise of its predilections remaining firmly on the surface. “I should probably ask Jack first, so he doesn’t get all broody and grumpy again.” A seditious lift of her chin echoed and occurred regardless, the grin turning into a snicker – mostly because of the time she’d summoned Ludo to assist in them getting the ship safely home. Another roll of her shoulders, and the moment was gone, focusing on the knowledge of weaponry once more.
“Mhm,” she hummed over the droning of the sparks, the electricity, in her hands. The sizzle reminded her of so many things – reflecting puddles in the midst of thunderstorms, in the play of best friends, in the alterations of Helovia and the Rift, in the scars puckered down her back, in the anglings of changes and distinction in power. But she needed no further encouragement as Aurelia pointed to the whale dummy, as she notched the bristling connotations, as she drew back, and listened to it whistle through the air.
Sharp and caustic, it flickered and beck and called to the target, a siren’s song, hastening toward’s the dummy’s spine again, and lodging into the painted adornments. In a spectacular display, the elements crackled, bit, and tore through the goal, flaring with zaps, flares, and flints, and destroying what was left of the ghost whale effigy.
If only things were ever that simple.
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
to bring a whole wildfire to life
