Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
Even if it wasn’t much (which she’d consider a farce), the youth was full of fire and fervor, eagerness and ebullience pervading along her senses as she awaited the grand tour. In jovial cheer she snagged and scratched at Pemota’s presence, wearing her along her shoulders as she was guided along the depths of the house, listening all the while as they went from room to room. If Nate was embarrassed, the little smuggler hardly noticed, eyes wide, nosey endeavors remaining full-fledged and indulgent.
Because proportions were vastly similar – as if the only alterations had been location of the domicile. “Some things never change,” she murmured at the blankets and sweaters, the trinkets gathered around. But it was with insatiable fondness, rather than any scolding or derision. Her gaze went to the ladder, nodding in reply. “Probably a good idea, considering all your guests.” That they’d always extended hospitality to others – even if it wasn’t in their best interest. She smiled, nodding at the sudden demand, a snort billowing and following through to the kitchen.
And then there were some babies.
Melita had been fond of Aoife and the haphazard display of other youths before it all came crashing and tumbling down during Fiat Lux. But she’d also never been responsible for them either, so as she advanced with ample curiosity and arched brows, a careful demeanor attempted, strived, to take hold. If she seemed hesitant, it was only out of absolute caution – the honeybee was not a careful individual by any stretch of the imagination, and little babes were fragile. “Oh, okay.” She eyed the bundles, the bumpers, the moving and swinging feet of the children. “What do you want me to do?” was a low whisper.
Because proportions were vastly similar – as if the only alterations had been location of the domicile. “Some things never change,” she murmured at the blankets and sweaters, the trinkets gathered around. But it was with insatiable fondness, rather than any scolding or derision. Her gaze went to the ladder, nodding in reply. “Probably a good idea, considering all your guests.” That they’d always extended hospitality to others – even if it wasn’t in their best interest. She smiled, nodding at the sudden demand, a snort billowing and following through to the kitchen.
And then there were some babies.
Melita had been fond of Aoife and the haphazard display of other youths before it all came crashing and tumbling down during Fiat Lux. But she’d also never been responsible for them either, so as she advanced with ample curiosity and arched brows, a careful demeanor attempted, strived, to take hold. If she seemed hesitant, it was only out of absolute caution – the honeybee was not a careful individual by any stretch of the imagination, and little babes were fragile. “Oh, okay.” She eyed the bundles, the bumpers, the moving and swinging feet of the children. “What do you want me to do?” was a low whisper.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
