Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
With great relish, with malicious intentions, the fervor of her fury caused a triumphant little smirk and snicker, enjoyment and ebullience, as the Hels began to regret their decision. In another moment, the flurry and flutter of wings ensured their presence were no longer to be regarded; a good riddance, as her eyes followed them back along the horizon. It was tempting to draw her bow and finish the job off.
However, there were more things to do – especially based on the mess left behind. She shrugged and rolled her shoulders, a snort drifting through, a self-satisfied huff following. “There.” She dusted off her hands, placing the staff back along her belt, as if the nuances never occurred or happened. Just another day at the office. Or ship.
Thereafter, Melita tended to the supplies again, grabbing hold, and carrying them along the threshold, striving to bring them within the bounty of the Ark without some other great travesty striking.
--
Melita grabs hold of the supplies!
However, there were more things to do – especially based on the mess left behind. She shrugged and rolled her shoulders, a snort drifting through, a self-satisfied huff following. “There.” She dusted off her hands, placing the staff back along her belt, as if the nuances never occurred or happened. Just another day at the office. Or ship.
Thereafter, Melita tended to the supplies again, grabbing hold, and carrying them along the threshold, striving to bring them within the bounty of the Ark without some other great travesty striking.
--
Melita grabs hold of the supplies!
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
