Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Melita hadn’t really known the stakes in the game – and though she wasn’t going full throttle, she certainly wasn’t giving him any easy edges, any gestures of light foibles. Perhaps it had been the way she’d been disarmed immediately that galvanized her so. Maybe it was because she rarely did anything by halves. Or it was Melita being Melita; all fire and brimstone.
With ideas and notions, she flickered off – smiling as he stepped back, as he was grazed, expecting she’d be able to dash off and circumspect her next available options. Thereafter though, there was a god damned clawed paw instead, and the slashes came quickly, efficiently, over her arm. Enough to make her hiss, and step back into his threshold immediately – summoning up a demeanor of irritation as blood pooled across the sun-tanned proportions.
From there, she aimed her serrated edges at the aforementioned paw.
With ideas and notions, she flickered off – smiling as he stepped back, as he was grazed, expecting she’d be able to dash off and circumspect her next available options. Thereafter though, there was a god damned clawed paw instead, and the slashes came quickly, efficiently, over her arm. Enough to make her hiss, and step back into his threshold immediately – summoning up a demeanor of irritation as blood pooled across the sun-tanned proportions.
From there, she aimed her serrated edges at the aforementioned paw.
I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
