MELITA
Her head tilted as she filled the bucket, indicating she was listening, even if her gaze was attentive upon the springs and sprigs. A frown pulled through her features at the notion of Locke being cursed though; only lifting her stare back to him in regards. “That’s too bad. Do you know how to cure it?” Spirits and heralds could be fickle at the best of times – sometimes it was misfortune, sometimes it was rotten luck, sometimes it was caused by one’s own actions. Then she hastened over once the water had reached the top of the lip, casting it over to Maeve so she could lift them along to wherever they needed to go. She snagged at her second with equal fervor and aplomb as the first, venturing back to the embankment, half-inclined to dip her fingers or toes into its mighty mettle.
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Disappear into the sun
