Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
Healing waters, blessed by Safrin, fountains in government buildings. Was that what they’d needed? Melita didn’t know, couldn’t say, and was obviously out of politics for an absurd number of reasons. Perhaps with coming wars, hostilities, and acrimonies, it was a decent idea. So her eyes glanced Maeve’s way, and gave a swift nod – not granting or giving support one way or the other. Too confused, too muddled, too focused on what everything else meant. Why change was so swift and so difficult. The gradual breaking apart of things she couldn’t quite name any longer.
“Let me know if you need help. I’ve been to Frey’s Breath before.” Not an easy travel, but familiar just the same.
Notching another arrow, she glanced at Maeve’s newfound gift out of the corner of her eye. Phoenix feathers and whips that ignited – Melita gave a soft snort, either visibly impressed or simply wanting to see it set alight (probably the latter). “Give it a whirl then.” And then she lifted her bow once more, pulling back the strand with familiar airs, listening to it sing through the wind as it pinpointed into a target’s abdomen.
“Let me know if you need help. I’ve been to Frey’s Breath before.” Not an easy travel, but familiar just the same.
Notching another arrow, she glanced at Maeve’s newfound gift out of the corner of her eye. Phoenix feathers and whips that ignited – Melita gave a soft snort, either visibly impressed or simply wanting to see it set alight (probably the latter). “Give it a whirl then.” And then she lifted her bow once more, pulling back the strand with familiar airs, listening to it sing through the wind as it pinpointed into a target’s abdomen.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
