to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
Still settling into the pretenses, Melita arched a brow, acting surprised and shocked by the revelation. “Oh?” Safrin kept the Nightshade busy, or perhaps it was the other way around, seemingly always with something to do or orchestrate along Torchline.
As for the Hels? The honeybee put her hands on her hips, glancing upwards, towards the gulls flying high – taunting measures, if she were to hazard a guess. As Fangorn bounded over to Aidon and attempted to instigate some sort of throwing game (with sand? Small rocks? She wasn’t certain), the youth shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve hit quite a few with arrows and set them on fire.” Did that count? An additional pause was taken, considering. She could probably use blunted ends if it necessary. “Do they have to be alive?”
As for the Hels? The honeybee put her hands on her hips, glancing upwards, towards the gulls flying high – taunting measures, if she were to hazard a guess. As Fangorn bounded over to Aidon and attempted to instigate some sort of throwing game (with sand? Small rocks? She wasn’t certain), the youth shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve hit quite a few with arrows and set them on fire.” Did that count? An additional pause was taken, considering. She could probably use blunted ends if it necessary. “Do they have to be alive?”
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
