Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Well, it was more of a plan than her scattered thoughts of arriving to the swamp, finding a witch, and uncertain of layering whatever in between; since that was all Melita had come up with for this chaotic plot.
The frog in her grasp though delights her, and the youth remained utterly indifferent to the swarm of muck, mire, and mud sticking to her now as she sauntered in deeper amongst lily pads and water far too grimy to see within. It whined and keened and she laughed – enraptured by the moment, and ignoring Fangorn’s sigh from the bank. At Milo’s inquiry, she raised the amphibian towards the fellow smuggler, not even bothering to muffle the ridiculousness of the situation. Fully embracing it for whatever it was worth. “I think it’s telling me to fuck off!” Sure enough, another high pitched wail echoed from its sentiments, desperate to scramble out of her keep. “Which way to your witch, good sir?” echoed in a mockingly deep voice, as if ensuing a command.
The frog in her grasp though delights her, and the youth remained utterly indifferent to the swarm of muck, mire, and mud sticking to her now as she sauntered in deeper amongst lily pads and water far too grimy to see within. It whined and keened and she laughed – enraptured by the moment, and ignoring Fangorn’s sigh from the bank. At Milo’s inquiry, she raised the amphibian towards the fellow smuggler, not even bothering to muffle the ridiculousness of the situation. Fully embracing it for whatever it was worth. “I think it’s telling me to fuck off!” Sure enough, another high pitched wail echoed from its sentiments, desperate to scramble out of her keep. “Which way to your witch, good sir?” echoed in a mockingly deep voice, as if ensuing a command.
I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
