Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
“Oh.” Melita snorted, chin going up seditiously, defiantly, because she thought the name was a misnomer and a bit stupid. “I suppose. Though wasn’t one found in a weird house..?” Maybe logic didn’t have a place with relics – she didn’t have all the stories, all the nuances, put together. Some below the ice. Some churning within monsters. Some on hints, others readily told. How and what and why they were determined in each interval was a mystery to her.
Sila didn’t take the bait, but definitely slid closer, down into Melita’s lap, where she could be content to watch the rise and fall of the sled over snow. Fangorn had already snuck his vines out of the compartment, allowing them to be flung around on the manufactured breeze. “Do you want to head out tonight?” The youth murmured over her mug, pondering how soon those layers truly meant.
Sila didn’t take the bait, but definitely slid closer, down into Melita’s lap, where she could be content to watch the rise and fall of the sled over snow. Fangorn had already snuck his vines out of the compartment, allowing them to be flung around on the manufactured breeze. “Do you want to head out tonight?” The youth murmured over her mug, pondering how soon those layers truly meant.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
