there's always a glimmer in those
The dragon’s courtesies paid off – the vampire gourd had opportunities to hide, pressing and curling his vines until they intertwined with leaves, giving the impression of true camouflage. He even closed his eerie, glowing eyes and fanged mouth, finding some remaining orange blossoms, until it appeared he’d become part of the foliage. Perhaps that was how he’d survived for so long, before Melita had tempted him with food, before souls had bonded.
Meanwhile, the honeybee plucked at weeds, ripping out the root with force and ferocity, content to apply her strength and efforts for something idle, not requiring much thought. It allowed her mind to listen, instead of merely wander. She smiled at the notions of Remi, even if he’d been altered by other things in the world, that there were still little pieces of him from before that remained. “That sounds nice. Remi's very good. I bet it'll come out wonderful.” She hummed a little under her breath, trying to match the distinct pitch the bees were making around her. “I got mine from Arduinna, a Fae that once helped us stop the blight.” A time of different means and measures, of machinations that didn’t always directly correlate to gods and wars. Or maybe it had, and she simply hadn’t been paying attention.
Her eyes lifted briefly at Maeve’s sigh, at the collection of heartbreak. The youth had experienced similar aspects, but never in the way of romance – death and desecration of her family had chiseled that little soul into something fierce instead of downtrodden. “Oh. I’m sorry.” Unaware of anything that had occurred, she faced away, staring back down at her weeds, grimacing a little at the faux pas. “Can it be fixed?” Or was it something already marred, ruined, and gone?
But the following announcement rendered her into far more excitement, leaning away from the potential of dramatics, for the notions of bees and honey. She rose eagerly, weeds in hand, clapping her palms together. “Whenever you’re ready!”
Meanwhile, the honeybee plucked at weeds, ripping out the root with force and ferocity, content to apply her strength and efforts for something idle, not requiring much thought. It allowed her mind to listen, instead of merely wander. She smiled at the notions of Remi, even if he’d been altered by other things in the world, that there were still little pieces of him from before that remained. “That sounds nice. Remi's very good. I bet it'll come out wonderful.” She hummed a little under her breath, trying to match the distinct pitch the bees were making around her. “I got mine from Arduinna, a Fae that once helped us stop the blight.” A time of different means and measures, of machinations that didn’t always directly correlate to gods and wars. Or maybe it had, and she simply hadn’t been paying attention.
Her eyes lifted briefly at Maeve’s sigh, at the collection of heartbreak. The youth had experienced similar aspects, but never in the way of romance – death and desecration of her family had chiseled that little soul into something fierce instead of downtrodden. “Oh. I’m sorry.” Unaware of anything that had occurred, she faced away, staring back down at her weeds, grimacing a little at the faux pas. “Can it be fixed?” Or was it something already marred, ruined, and gone?
But the following announcement rendered her into far more excitement, leaning away from the potential of dramatics, for the notions of bees and honey. She rose eagerly, weeds in hand, clapping her palms together. “Whenever you’re ready!”
who have been through the dark
MELITA
