been so numb for so many years
Mel <3
Sunjata Wrenzaok
the Flood
Archon of King's End

Age: 34 | Height: 6'5 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 15 - Strg: 76 - Dext: 73 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
PETRONELLA - Mythical - Sea Panther
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 8,340 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#1
// so now you've done a little wrong and you need to be forgiven,
by the vicar and the company you keep //
It’s night by the time he trudges back home, clothes a mess of dry blood, the scarlet hue stained on his hands and arms, mixed with dirt and mud and sand. He’s exhausted, too, the letter still ringing in his mind, shifting from his own internal voice to the sharp edged steel of his fathers. And over and over again all he can do is imagine himself in place of Arsen, with nails in his wings, blood drawn from his body.

Of course, only when he becomes less useful to his father. But he always knew just how much Shaju liked to fuck with his victims before ending it all.

The house is quiet, he thinks he’s alone. He slips inside and locks the door behind him (he triple checks), and begins the slow trudge up the stairs on the bedroom side of the house, to make his way down the hallway toward his bedroom and the bathroom attached, needing to get the blood off him.
// this is the sin that i will confess to release myself
from consequence and everyone can tell //
SUNJATA
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#2
Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
The evening sprawled, the late hours stinging at her eyes as the light presiding from her candles offered the only respite she’d receive during those twilight doldrums. Her pencil glided across paper after paper, plans (as if her impulsive nature allowed, permitted it), stemming from the notion that the semblances of upcoming trials and tribulations would go anywhere but awry. More than once she’d ripped up portions into shreds, started anew, fresh, and the wick burned down low, the wax building along its sanction. Long, wild locks were braided and plaited over her shoulder, a fortitude of some control, some manifestation, in the potential upheaval and ruin coming to her – the consternation never quite receding, no matter how many alternatives she presented into the dark.

Fangorn rumbled at her ankles, and she sighed, thinking to call it, to cease and desist for now. To start again when her brain was fresh, when her mind wasn’t so overrun, when everything wasn’t such a mess – it’d be there to greet her in the morning.

And so she thought about crawling into bed, away from her desk, when the stairs creaked. Her eyes instantly went to the window, to the potential hour, certain that it was quite late. Would either of her uncles have been out and about? Possibly. Could it be something else nefarious? Another stretch of her hazy mind contemplated the efforts, the notions, and something roared in her.

She grabbed a dagger, familiar in her hand, and the candle in the other, sliding, gingerly, carefully, quietly, towards her door, swinging the aperture open swiftly –

To behold Sunjata, covered in blood.

Her jaw clenched, and the perils, the hazards, the feasibility of a hundred things spurned and spun in her mind. “What happened?” Was a feral hiss, a whisper in the midst of dark and crimson, raising the lithe, little embers to better seek him out in the hall.
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
Sunjata Wrenzaok
the Flood
Archon of King's End

Age: 34 | Height: 6'5 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 15 - Strg: 76 - Dext: 73 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
PETRONELLA - Mythical - Sea Panther
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 8,340 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#3
// so now you've done a little wrong and you need to be forgiven,
by the vicar and the company you keep //
He had tried to be quiet, on the off chance that Melita wasn’t staying on the Ark, on the off chance she might have had other plans for the night. And really, he just didn’t want to talk about it if he was found, much preferring to wash away the grime and curl up in the warmth of his bed, to hope that sleep took him quickly and numbly. But that doesn’t happen either — a door opening, a glint of a knife, and Sunjata’s attention narrows in on it but he doesn’t move.

Instead his head turns back down the hallway, as if looking for something that’s not there, as if he’s seeing something that’s not there. “Someone left a message for me at the Slagveld.” He explains, voice flat and emotionless because he’s bottled it up, because if he lets out an ounce of it, he’ll fall apart. “Nailed a body to the wall.” His gaze slips back toward her, head jutting toward where his bedroom is, for her to follow if she wished to learn more.

The less he wore someone else’s blood, the better off he was. It felt too much like his Trial to make him feel even the least bit okay.
// this is the sin that i will confess to release myself
from consequence and everyone can tell //
SUNJATA
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#4
Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
There shouldn’t have been palpable relief that it wasn’t his blood mottled and stained over garments and garb – but the honeybee had long since learned to compartmentalize. The dagger slid back into her palm, and was then tucked into its furtive layers, while she steadied the hand holding the flames. Only thereafter could the rest of her mind keep up with his statements, the flattened wake, the emotionless echoes, where he’d hardened like a rock, like a stone, and only said what was necessary. “Okay,” she swallowed down, bearing the information – bodies nailed to walls, messages left likely unanswered.

Even if he didn’t want her to – she followed.

The little beacon of light presided in her bare footsteps, wandering back through, room by room, while Fangorn bumbled and grumbled silently beside her, vines snaking out. On the need for movement and motion, the youth went to the linen closets and cabinets, grabbing hold of several towels and cloths. Like this had happened before, with cuts and knives and edges; but never quite the same way.

Question after question flickered on the edge of her tongue, behind her teeth, along the corners of her mouth, but none of them sounded suitable. None of them would do either of them much good, save for sating curiosity, or delving into next motions and motives. Simpler ones first then, as she breathed and eased away the trepidation from her voice. “Where’s the body now?”
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
Sunjata Wrenzaok
the Flood
Archon of King's End

Age: 34 | Height: 6'5 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 15 - Strg: 76 - Dext: 73 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
PETRONELLA - Mythical - Sea Panther
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 8,340 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#5
// so now you've done a little wrong and you need to be forgiven,
by the vicar and the company you keep //
”Okay” she says, and she follows. And so Sunjata departs toward the bedroom and adjoined bathroom while Melita gathers towels and cloths. In his trudge toward it, he’s silent, for a while as he peels the blood stained clothes from his torso, dropping them atop a towel on the floor so it wouldn’t spread the blood anywhere. And he reaches into the half closed off shower to turn the water on, to warm it up.

This part of the bathroom wall for the shower is closed about halfway up, leaving the top half more open with a piece of glass in between. “He had a winged shift like mine.” Sunjata rumbles, because it’s all he can think about right now, all he can focus on is the shadow of the boy spread across the wall drained of his blood into the sand. “Nailed to the wall by them.” A muscle feathers in his jaw, his back turned to Melita wherever she’s chosen to perch, because it’s not much like he cares where she is right now.

Part of him is glad to not be alone, though, even if he can’t outwardly say it. Even if he hadn’t wanted her to follow him immediately, somewhere inside he’s glad she did.

As for where the body is? He takes his time answering it. Eventually, with a huff of a sigh he slips behind the half cover, peeling off the rest of his clothes to slip into the shower and let the water begin to run off the grime. “Being taken care of.” He offers. He doesn’t know how Declan planned to get rid of the body, only that he hadn’t asked any questions. It was better that way.
// this is the sin that i will confess to release myself
from consequence and everyone can tell //
SUNJATA
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#6
Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
The silence permeated, pervaded, surrounded, so much that even Melita was numbed into its cycle. The war behind her eyes blasted and billowed, but all she could do was glance down, perched along angles and doorframes, like a bird, striving to take flight somewhere. Preferably with talons outstretched, to claw and grasp and tear. All her hands did for the moment was clutch over cloths and all her mind did for an instant was reel. Her gaze went to the ceiling, to the beams of wooden frames, swallowing down a layer of defiant quiet that seethed into her bones, pulsed amongst the mettle.

Was this always going to happen? Misfortune after misfortune?

The rumbling echo from her uncle finally funneled its way through the walls, and with her back turned, she listened – a winged man, with feathers rising, clinging, until they were pushed, driven, and nailed into a surface. It sounded like madness, like something out of a horrifying, terrifying abyss. But Melita had lived in those tempests and eaves in her youth, knew exactly what the world, what humans (and weren’t they just monsters too?) were capable of. Her jaw clenched and her stare fell again.

The body being taken care of. Disposed? Hidden? Locked away? Investigated? Her heart that hammered for justice and vengeance bound along its intervals, chambers clicking one by one by one, and she could feel the dimensions of determination slinking, slithering in. “Do you know who it was?” The wounded, beaten, battered beast, made to become a reflection, a warning, of Sunjata himself? “Or who did it?” And what could be done about the circumstances?
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
Sunjata Wrenzaok
the Flood
Archon of King's End

Age: 34 | Height: 6'5 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 15 - Strg: 76 - Dext: 73 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
PETRONELLA - Mythical - Sea Panther
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 8,340 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#7
// so now you've done a little wrong and you need to be forgiven,
by the vicar and the company you keep //
He slips into the shower, the water running over his skin and ridding the bronze flesh of the dried blood and grime that had piled up on it. And for a moment he simply watches it as it runs into the drain, watching as it disappears and begins to run clear. It’s a minor benefit, he supposes, to watch as it disappears in the hopes his mind might follow suit. It doesn’t, of course, how could he be so naïve? So he ducks his head into the stream, letting the water run over the panes of his face, reaching up to rub at his temples and the bridge of his nose as if that might make them go away.  It, too, does nothing.

Her voice distracts him again, minutely, and he withdraws his head from underneath the streams of water to grab a bit of the soap to try and clear out all the grime completely as he contemplates the answer. “I ran him out of town a… Month ago? Maybe two months?” Between the medicine (hallucinogen) he’s been taking, time was hard for him to tell now. “He was a bit of a troublemaker.” This is offered a bit quieter – sure that the kid would’ve proven to be a bigger problem should he have remained.

Guess he won’t find out.

As for who did it? His lip twitches and he’s silent for a few moments longer, working to scrub at the dirt on his calloused hands instead. “I have an idea of who might have done it, but there’s no proof yet.” Nothing determined or hard that he could do anything with. And again, he doesn’t even know where to start when it comes to finding his father – nor what he’d do when he did.
// this is the sin that i will confess to release myself
from consequence and everyone can tell //
SUNJATA
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#8
Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
They’d all had blood on their hands in one way or another. How or why sometimes didn’t really matter. It wound away or revolved in turns through one’s mind, over and over and over – until something else came along – a far more draining particle of life. She ceased to imagine the corpse with its outstretched wings and its messages, painstakingly clawing over other nuances, other reminders, of past worlds where it was normal, happenstance, for the terror and torture of another to be on full display.

Her jaw clenched once more, and she looked down, glancing at her palms, absentmindedly tracing over callouses where daggers, bows, and staffs rested. The clear lines of vengeance and annihilation, of defense and safeguarding. A troublemaker; the Flood ran him out of town. Apparently he’d come back at some point, or maybe been dragged – could’ve been an audacious scandal, an emboldened regime. Could’ve been nothing at all, random and chosen.

Melita’s head rose, Fangorn settling into her lap as she curled downward against the doorframe. An idea. No proof. No evidence. And something else lingered there. Her brows furrowed, making a neat line of potential embers, cinders, and fire between her eyes and mind, scraping over whatever morsel she could find, grasp, and grip. “Are you not going to tell me then?”
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
Sunjata Wrenzaok
the Flood
Archon of King's End

Age: 34 | Height: 6'5 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 15 - Strg: 76 - Dext: 73 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
PETRONELLA - Mythical - Sea Panther
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 8,340 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#9
// so now you've done a little wrong and you need to be forgiven,
by the vicar and the company you keep //
Silence overtakes them again and Sunjata works to scrub the dirt from his hands and his nails, his attention attempting to focus on anything but why he was covered in blood, what it all meant in the end. For now, however, he focuses on Melita’s question when it’s aired – even if it makes his gut churn, if it makes him feel sick yet again. He doesn’t know what to tell her, doesn’t have an accurate name to go off of, doesn’t have a face to paint as an example of what to be on the look out for. He effectively has nothing, and gods if it isn’t the most frustrating, breaking thing he’s dealing with right now.

I don’t have a name nor a face.” He finally decides, rinsing his hands after they’d become red from not paying attention to how hard he’d been scrubbing. “What is there to tell you other than that?” Comes his quieter question, ducking his head under the shower again to hide the way his voice had shook, the way the tones had cracked.

He makes quick work of washing out his hair and rinsing it out, remaining in the warmth of the water for a bit longer than necessary simply just to indulge in a feeling other than a hollow cold, a blackened void.
// this is the sin that i will confess to release myself
from consequence and everyone can tell //
SUNJATA
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#10
Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
She knew she shouldn’t push it. But there were only so many times that she could handle being left in the dark – to not feel apart of anything. Maybe everything was too raw, too fresh, but no amount of clenching her jaw, of snarling into the flickers of candlelight, were doing much of anything. “I don’t know.” Which was always the same god damned problem. Her eyes lifted off the floor once more, hands going to scratch Fangorn, attempting to fissure away from the anger rising like a tempest behind her chest.

The tones were subdued, not giving rise to the weight of her frustrations, her vexations, her exasperations. Of those continuously carrying everything on their shoulders when there were so many willing to try and take on some of the burdens. Or even have a semblance of a clue as to what was going on. Was that part of the problem? He didn’t want her to know? “You said you had an idea. You could tell me that.” What else was she supposed to even be doing?

And perhaps she could commit to something with hunches. With notions. With digging around. With action instead of winding her way around the world, to push away the other anxieties and apprehensions surrounding, pervading her soul.
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
Sunjata Wrenzaok
the Flood
Archon of King's End

Age: 34 | Height: 6'5 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 15 - Strg: 76 - Dext: 73 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
PETRONELLA - Mythical - Sea Panther
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 8,340 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#11
// so now you've done a little wrong and you need to be forgiven,
by the vicar and the company you keep //
She doesn’t know either. And that makes two of them. Sunjata’s attempts to cover himself in the water and finish cleaning up don’t keep her voice from registering, even after his have nearly cracked and broken. And it ignites a bit more of that lost sensation within him, those broken jagged pieces that begin to sharpen and push their points into his heart, into his lungs, wanting to freeze him up and leave nothing behind. So he withdraws from the water, shuts the shower off after he’s done, and reaches for that towel that Melita’s brought so he can dry off.

It ends up wrapped around his waist, his elbows eventually resting on the little half wall between them as he covers his face with both his hands, rubbing at his forehead as he tries to keep himself glued together just enough, just for her. “My idea, is someone who’s face changes every time I see him. Someone that nobody notices.” He offers her, quietly, sadly. It isn’t enough, he knows this, it’s why he hasn’t started doing anything about it.

He takes a deep sigh, pulling his hands from his face. “I can’t remember” – in fact, with the medicine he’s taking, his memory has fogged. He doesn’t remember the fake name Shaju had given the wedding. He doesn’t remember much of the finer details of what occurred. And it pains him. It’s evident in the way his shoulders are sloped, in the way he both feels and looks like he’ll crack apart. “I can’t remember anything anymore.” It’s a quieter admission, his frustration evident in the way he suddenly rises and moves to step past her into the dark of his bedroom, to get more room so he can follow through with the habit of letting the dragon wings out of his partial shift – still bound to heal and wrapped – in order for it to heal some more. One wing remains tucked tight, the other still droops, and he moves to perch onto the bed, to wrap the blankets around him so he can shut out the cold.
// this is the sin that i will confess to release myself
from consequence and everyone can tell //
SUNJATA
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#12
Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
At first the confusion was evident in her features, scrunched, furrowed, contemplating, the gears in her mind reeling at an all too swift pace. She took the first statement literally. “Like an Attuned? Or a shape-shifter?” Were there Abandoned capable of such magic – crafting the way their faces altered? Or like those already adapted and molded into those particular facets, animals bound into their soul? But by the time he offered the second, the idea had faltered.

Somebody who could blend in. Who knew the weight and worth of a crowd. Who attracted little notice or attention. Not loud and boisterous like her. Not attention-seeking and dramatic like Sunjata. Not someone in the realms of leadership, unless they were truly canny and subversive. Her elbows went to her thighs, chin resting in her hand as the wheels continued turning. “That could be almost anyone here.” And that was just in Torchline; known for its duplicity. Who was to say the individual wasn’t from the Grounds, or elsewhere?

But then it was the other nuances that followed and coiled that had her eyes narrowed. The hold of his wings. The wayward scrawl of memories not there. Her head tilted vaguely, trying and struggling to decipher too many things at once. Known for her more impetuous, impulsive movements, the skull was likely overwhelmed – but she tried. “What do you mean? What’s stopping you?” A multitude of concussions, injuries, and various acts of stupidity could be on the list. But Vai was usually able to handle those.

Was this something deeper? Unknown?

Was there ever a time when he didn’t seem to be falling apart?
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
Sunjata Wrenzaok
the Flood
Archon of King's End

Age: 34 | Height: 6'5 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 15 - Strg: 76 - Dext: 73 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 79 - Int: 3
PETRONELLA - Mythical - Sea Panther
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 8,340 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#13
// so now you've done a little wrong and you need to be forgiven,
by the vicar and the company you keep //
No, not like that.” He rumbles, exhaustion creeping into the accented tones of his voice. It wasn’t like Attuned, wasn’t like some shape shifter, he wasn’t sure if it was a mere illusion or whether Shaju was truly shifting his face and changing it. What he does know, is that it gets him no further than trying to listen to people’s voices trying to determine where Shaju was. He didn’t have the time or the means, sure that people would think him crazy to bring in so many random people just to hear them talk, and how would he know he even got his father? What if the man simply slipped away again?

His head throbs with all the ‘what ifs’ as he pulls the blanket around him, careful to not jostle the wounded wing, tucking his chin into the warm furs to try and drown out the chill he feels everywhere, the overwhelming numbness that whose hand in hand with it. He doesn’t respond to her acknowledgement that it could be anyone, instead choosing to tuck and hide himself away again as she questions him on his memory, something he was ashamed of after having spent so long ensuring his mind was intact.

There’s just nothing there.” He admits quietly. “After the Climb Fever and those blacked out spots… Things were fine until the visions happened. Then I couldn’t sleep, tried to fix that with Vai and Nate’s help. Still can’t sleep, still can’t remember.” His tone grows quieter and quieter as he fights to keep his voice from shaking, until eventually his good wing shrouds in, trying to close him off again.
// this is the sin that i will confess to release myself
from consequence and everyone can tell //
SUNJATA
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#14
Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
She watched as he tried to tuck himself away – drown out the misery, the noise, everything else under an abyss of blankets. And the youth wouldn’t reach over to strike it from him. Wouldn’t know how to assist, how to take away all those burdens and woes and worries. Her gaze meandered away from him, and over the shadows on the wall from her candle – feeling very lost. Uncertain. Picking at pebbles and stones, as if they mattered, when there were boulders, monoliths, and cliffs to consider. “Is there anything I can do to help?” For any of it? A valid inquiry – not knowing what he required.

But it also felt like he didn’t want her there. That she wasn’t really needed. That some portions of them had fallen away, gone and gone and gone, split between their parallel similarities. Maybe she was another encumbrance to him.

Maybe the honeybee wasn’t a part of anything here. Maybe she was better off, sailing after ghost whales, reaching for massive bones. Out of the way.

Her worries and trepidation didn’t make it into her voiced thoughts. Instead, she rose from the floor, Fangorn slipping down to its hardened interior, the embers of her light flickering, smoking, fringing. She wouldn’t tell him. It’d just be one more thing. She wouldn’t be missed anyway. “I’ll leave you be then.”
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life


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