[se] stand up as horizons

MELITA

Melita, despite her earlier notions, did manage to watch the youth dutifully, without prompting. Eyes followed after the child’s movements, ensuring there was some safety in accord with gathering seashells, with portions of seaglass and coral, with the waves cascading and rippling through. Kamaria didn’t seem bothered by anything at all here – not the salty air, not the winding breeze, not the Hels coasting overhead, and the honeybee narrowed her eyes briefly in speculation, in the same haughty nuances as before, when the child had returned.

Manifesting dedication into her own abilities, she laid the groundwork for the second tier, compiling buttresses and thickening spires, leaving naught to chance should the tide come in closer. Fangorn eventually left to gather some broken shells found along the dampened sand, ground into the earth, hidden from view, and when he came back his vines had plucked away at the grains of dunes, revealing natural patterns and wondrous hues. “Thank you,” she ushered to her companion when her hands were free of sand, wiping them off on her dress, and scratching him along the top of his head. Thereafter, the shards were placed upon the bottom layer, ensuring there was some beauty in its dune conjectures.

And all the while she hadn’t expected the question, so as Melita narrowed her brows and stuck out her tongue in concentration, it stung right into the press of her spine. She looked up rapidly, staring over at the girl, jaw clenching, feathering, and if it were possible, some smoke and fumes would’ve resided in the heart of her gaze. “Your father pisses me off,” and then she wondered if that had been an okay thing to say. Shrugging, she moved onward, trying hard not to wrap her fingers into a fist and lay waste to the project in front of her. “We had an argument. And I’m not sorry about it.”

So she snuck around instead of coming face to face with Sunjata and all the other ridiculous semblances around the house. Instead of seeing as little to no consequences were rendered after such a bewildering decision. Instead of staring the result straight in the face, like she was doing now. But to blame the one in front of her for all the problems? It wouldn’t be fair, even if Melita was drudging around in a barbaric mood. It hadn’t been Kamaria’s fault that Sunjata was stupid and Safrin was manipulative and knew exactly how to play him, and that Nate still came back as if nothing was the matter. She was truthful instead. “I don’t know you very well.” To decide if she liked her or not.

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight