Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
of the women they burned alive
A Cheshire grin unfolded over her mouth; ruffian, rogue, spitfire tendencies, meant to be sharpened, dangerous intricacies. There was amusement, diversions, and deviations settled within too, alongside the seditious arms and alms she always carried – lifting her head to survey the surroundings once more, before sliding her attention in his direction. “Up to you.” Melita had never been deterred by danger. Not when she lived and breathed it within many occasions, from childhood until now – where she was brimming with weapons, impulsivity, and emboldened years.
And she so desperately didn’t want to think of what waited back home – in between the strife and the agony.
The smile was meant to be an enticement and a lure anyway, and she shrugged her shoulders, giving him several moments to piece together his thoughts and actions. Then she laughed, loosening sylph and fey gestures, before rampaging further into the thickets.
And she so desperately didn’t want to think of what waited back home – in between the strife and the agony.
The smile was meant to be an enticement and a lure anyway, and she shrugged her shoulders, giving him several moments to piece together his thoughts and actions. Then she laughed, loosening sylph and fey gestures, before rampaging further into the thickets.
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
to bring a whole wildfire to life
