to be lit up from within
vein by vein
The silence, and the wait, was unbearable. Melita wasn’t known for her patience, and it showed in the restless wake of her limbs, yearning to break loose and spring free from behind the boulder. To launch and conquer, to rampage and linger on, in rings and reels of laughter. Survival within the Rift had taught her to be quiet, to be still, to be hushed, but gods it’d been difficult then too. Her blood pumped and her veins pulsed and there were a myriad of things she wanted to do instantaneously. Fangorn provided some relief with a calming essence through the bond, but otherwise it quelled and brimmed beneath her skin.
And the fact that he was muffled by the fog didn’t help. So she pressed closer to the rock, as if somehow her ember locks would become a part of it, some backdrop nuance until they were caught, or if she could just…slowly edge around it.
to be the sun
MELITA
