Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
Hand over hand, motion after motion, whirling the staff back and forth, back and forth, until the muscles loosened, under the callouses remembered the grooves, until everything felt right and just and mighty. She only stirred from staring out over the horizon, from performing herself right into a lull of vehemence, when another’s voice spoke through the fluidity. Ceasing for a moment, the sharp volley of the weapon clenched into her grasp, and for a second she might have looked far, far different than the energetic, fervent girl chasing after water horses.
Ferocious, feral, wild, untamed, eternally ready for some kind of fight.
It took half a second for everything else to register. Her gilded gaze followed after Lilliane, recognizing her from before, and Fangorn grumbled something close by, tending to her packs. “Oh, thanks,” she blinked, permitting the compliment to sink into her soul. “What brings you by?”
Ferocious, feral, wild, untamed, eternally ready for some kind of fight.
It took half a second for everything else to register. Her gilded gaze followed after Lilliane, recognizing her from before, and Fangorn grumbled something close by, tending to her packs. “Oh, thanks,” she blinked, permitting the compliment to sink into her soul. “What brings you by?”
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
