Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
of the women they burned alive
In tandem amongst and amidst crew members; their notions settled and buzzing, the drone and shift of movements, motions, maneuvers settled into the forefront. These would-be thieves should’ve known better; and yet, still sought to descend and continue. Maybe it was just as well. Battle, small and slight but there nonetheless, curved and called their way into her wild heart, and it sang in triumphant savagery.
Her eyes swept to Aurelia, a nod indicating her understanding, a whisper threading through the vestiges before the other marched onward, and Melita stayed on the ship's ramparts, height advantages in the skirmish. “I’ll try to pick them off.” To disregard, to disarm, to concave; indifferent to which. As long as they learned, fell apart, or merely left the box – but the notions of sedition had already spread through her veins, beating in her blood. She wouldn’t be ceased. Wouldn’t be stopped.
The arrow notched and released had the tips of ice emblazoned on its forefront, a promise of glacial expertise; only to spiral directly over the nearest combatant’s shoulder. It struck into the shallows instead, marking and embellishing a portion of rime nearby. “Fucker,” she hissed again, keeping her gaze pinpointed on Aurelia and the others, reaching behind to grab another. “I won’t miss again,” she promised; intending to make the next whole and true.
To hurt, to pierce, to puncture, when and where it mattered.
Her eyes swept to Aurelia, a nod indicating her understanding, a whisper threading through the vestiges before the other marched onward, and Melita stayed on the ship's ramparts, height advantages in the skirmish. “I’ll try to pick them off.” To disregard, to disarm, to concave; indifferent to which. As long as they learned, fell apart, or merely left the box – but the notions of sedition had already spread through her veins, beating in her blood. She wouldn’t be ceased. Wouldn’t be stopped.
The arrow notched and released had the tips of ice emblazoned on its forefront, a promise of glacial expertise; only to spiral directly over the nearest combatant’s shoulder. It struck into the shallows instead, marking and embellishing a portion of rime nearby. “Fucker,” she hissed again, keeping her gaze pinpointed on Aurelia and the others, reaching behind to grab another. “I won’t miss again,” she promised; intending to make the next whole and true.
To hurt, to pierce, to puncture, when and where it mattered.
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
to bring a whole wildfire to life
