you must burn brighter than ever
Melita hummed under a breath, a steady, stalwart little tune, no vocals, no lyrics, to ruin the tiny march through her throat; a warble, a ditty, a strain Clementine and her always tried to match with their mother while they followed along her winding footsteps, garden after garden, herb after herb. Aurelia’s statement made her cease for a moment so she could pause to laugh. “The past has a purpose. Some wiser people use it to change, rather than fall into the same habits.” Obviously, that hadn’t been any of them lately. She shrugged her shoulders, but knew what the other woman meant. They’d been mired in their survival traits for far too long. Melita had branched out, driven to new heights, expressed herself freely. And there’d always be more.
A chaotic, wild sort of giggle burst from her thereafter, and the song in between her ribs and heart was quite forgotten for the sanctity of tainted ramparts. “Innocence is so boring anyway,” she added with a dismissing handwave; knowing full well she’d lost nearly every aspect of irreproachability long, long ago.
The surprise coated in the other’s voice made her laugh all the more, shaking her head, the petals of her crown drifting to and fro, but staying intact. “I try not to let anything stop me.” The youth raised her head, jaw lifted to the sun. Bold and bolder still, even if fortune didn’t find her – determined, hard-headed, stubborn, and tenacious, a tempest born in a lithe form. An arch of a brow curled and then she giggled all the more, so that it resounded and reverberated at the insinuation of poor Milo. “You know, he didn’t!” A mock surprise, smiling still. But he’d humored her anyway, even if they hadn’t discovered anything of worth.
But she paid close attention, expression altering into intrigue, as Aurelia described her misadventure. Wessex, teleportations, and molten tigers (oh my!) framing the story was a curious notion, and her head tilted at the semblances of it. “That sounds like one of the Voice’s things.” She drew her knees up towards her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees, brows furrowing in deep concentration. “I’ve only been along the Oerwoud. I think Locke and I found a poisonous bird!” Another Cheshire grin to follow – as if this was all very impressive.
A chaotic, wild sort of giggle burst from her thereafter, and the song in between her ribs and heart was quite forgotten for the sanctity of tainted ramparts. “Innocence is so boring anyway,” she added with a dismissing handwave; knowing full well she’d lost nearly every aspect of irreproachability long, long ago.
The surprise coated in the other’s voice made her laugh all the more, shaking her head, the petals of her crown drifting to and fro, but staying intact. “I try not to let anything stop me.” The youth raised her head, jaw lifted to the sun. Bold and bolder still, even if fortune didn’t find her – determined, hard-headed, stubborn, and tenacious, a tempest born in a lithe form. An arch of a brow curled and then she giggled all the more, so that it resounded and reverberated at the insinuation of poor Milo. “You know, he didn’t!” A mock surprise, smiling still. But he’d humored her anyway, even if they hadn’t discovered anything of worth.
But she paid close attention, expression altering into intrigue, as Aurelia described her misadventure. Wessex, teleportations, and molten tigers (oh my!) framing the story was a curious notion, and her head tilted at the semblances of it. “That sounds like one of the Voice’s things.” She drew her knees up towards her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees, brows furrowing in deep concentration. “I’ve only been along the Oerwoud. I think Locke and I found a poisonous bird!” Another Cheshire grin to follow – as if this was all very impressive.
Melita
