(SE)(Open!) Might as Well be Walking on the Sun

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

Her steps were light, airy, ethereal, tidal waves of movement and motion, never still, never grasped, never tethered and lined. Fangorn did his best to become something of a suitable nature, grumbling and rumbling along the fern and fungus floor as best he could. They were glowing things, in some semblance, awakened on the luminescent eaves, on the brief, wavering conversation between strangers. She turned, head over her shoulder, gilded gaze back upon the man, but she had no inclination of who, of what, he was. Perhaps another from some other land. Perhaps someone she’d simply never met.

“What are you doing out here?” She called in return, the mischief emboldened on her rogue, ruffian features; a child, a youth, of the savage elements – ready to ignite, pretending she had a reason to be savoring this world too. The darkness did nothing to fade her from the traces of those seditious foundations.

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life