M E L I T A
Destruction hadn’t been on the forefront of her mind when she’d begun cleaning – but it was stuck there now, in a blaze of glory and purpose, steadily eating, devouring, and swallowing up the remains of Long Night. Perhaps that was what they were all supposed to do – forgive and forget, watch the shards of those terrible days become consumed by everything else. Her eyes watched the fire with a renewed sense of purpose, inhaling the smoke, the fumes, the embers, with a savage ferocity, arms folded, remembering the chase of ashes and ruins, the swell of disaster and mayhem clawing its way through her childhood tribulations. Never again, she promised herself. Never again would she allow herself to sink so low, to clamber about so ridiculously; she’d try, she’d overcome, she’d strive, she’d settle determination firmly in her feet, in her fingers, in her grasp, and refuse to balk any longer.
Emmett’s words distracted her, not expecting the conversation to shift upon assisting Vervain or Fangorn. Her eyes flicked away from the burning rubble, from the singsong rush of resurgence and revival, the traces of a Sun God’s kismet smoldering and seething in her skin. “I like to help.” She shrugged, the light smile reclaiming her features. “The fire is an added bonus.” There was the impish, hazardous quality igniting across her lips again; more potency than ferocity in its hold now.
At the mention of her bonded though, she hadn’t realized she’d forgotten to give a true introduction to the gourd. She didn’t take him for granted, that was never the case, but often times she was so deterred and distracted by her purposes and motivations, and frequently others were the same, that the pumpkin wasn’t mentioned, or they paid no mind to the bounding, leaping, feral, little thing. “This is Fangorn.” She bent down and scooped him up into her arms, and he attempted not to show his comfort, instead allowing his mouth become a gnarled, mangled line, complete with ivory fangs jutting out in front. “He’s my companion!” One hand reached along his stem and scratched, and the gourd closed its eyes, leaning into the motions. “Do you remember all the vampire pumpkins? Well, this guy managed to hide and outlast them all.” She laughed, airy and ethereal, singsong and harmonic. “So I took him in.” Her eyes glanced around, as if she’d never thought up the notion, immediately inquiring thereafter. “Do you have a companion?”
