Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
With Melita completely unbothered by prospects of falling or anything remotely risky, she peered along, watching Remi’s transformation, and surveying the cliffs for that particular bright speck again. She could only nod at the Huntsman’s answer, half-distracted, pondering the likelihood and possibilities of someone dropping the bit of stray cloth, or how it could potentially snag –
When Ronin’s question came over the air.
A sudden sickening twist molded into her stomach, and a whole range of emotions began to gnarl right there in the pit of her soul. Perhaps it was nothing. Not a dragon at all. Certainly not a relative. Who’d seen his assortment of issues, caused a multitude of trials and tribulations –
She swallowed a knot of bile. “Maybe?” It could’ve been something else entirely, right? Right?
When Ronin’s question came over the air.
A sudden sickening twist molded into her stomach, and a whole range of emotions began to gnarl right there in the pit of her soul. Perhaps it was nothing. Not a dragon at all. Certainly not a relative. Who’d seen his assortment of issues, caused a multitude of trials and tribulations –
She swallowed a knot of bile. “Maybe?” It could’ve been something else entirely, right? Right?
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me