Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
“Big tigers. Neat colors though – some are silver, gold, bronze, all elemental and stuff.” Her eyes traced upwards, in the rushes of crimson shadows and brushes along the walls, watching and surveying, because she could’ve sworn the outcries were becoming far more distinct, the more they meandered through the cavern. Maybe they were already feasting – down one of the other tunnels, and the course of action wheeling its way through her mind wasn’t necessary.
The ignoramus behind her had an appeal for distracting questions anyway, to which she snorted. “I think it’s the loyalty of the leaders. My uncle, Sunjata, was the Governor previously, and was quite enamored with her.” By her? She wasn’t sure anymore. That had changed anyway; rapidly and dangerously. “Maeve is the same.”
The ignoramus behind her had an appeal for distracting questions anyway, to which she snorted. “I think it’s the loyalty of the leaders. My uncle, Sunjata, was the Governor previously, and was quite enamored with her.” By her? She wasn’t sure anymore. That had changed anyway; rapidly and dangerously. “Maeve is the same.”
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
