but there's chaos brewing
underneath my skin
The honeybee was eternally willing to try, even when the efforts seemed a bit hopeless. Perhaps she was still full of those measures, rather than relying solely on gut instinct, determination, stubbornness, and an unrelenting, piercing volley of spirit. But the names signified nothing to her – the dirt around the graves remained the same, and the cast of the die didn’t seem to be in their favor for this go-around.
Not wanting to simply give up, she regained her stature from her crouch, hand tightening over whatever object remained in her hand. Fangorn grumbled something, low, striving to remain unaware in the midst of the evening, and Sila clambered back to her arm, tail twisting over muscles and skin. “Okay,” was uttered reluctantly, not even bothering to hide her sigh. “Do we want to wait for him? Maybe at the Celestine?” Or the Temple? Or any other places?
Not wanting to simply give up, she regained her stature from her crouch, hand tightening over whatever object remained in her hand. Fangorn grumbled something, low, striving to remain unaware in the midst of the evening, and Sila clambered back to her arm, tail twisting over muscles and skin. “Okay,” was uttered reluctantly, not even bothering to hide her sigh. “Do we want to wait for him? Maybe at the Celestine?” Or the Temple? Or any other places?
trying to hold in the storm
instead of making waves
MELITA
