Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
A difference in the definitions: Darkeye seemed to wield the novelty around however he liked. “That isn’t impartial,” and she shook her head, not bothering to any further with it, since he didn’t seem eager to listen to the notions anyway. She wasn’t surprised about Sunjata’s tracings over the matter – too little information, keeping others ignorant and bereft, a telltale sign that he hadn’t touched much, even anointed by the gods again and again. “My uncle has used a lot of people.” Her jaw clenched absentmindedly. “At least you know now.”
A pause, a narrowing of her eyes, a twist and turn of how she felt about bloodline ties. “You won’t be able to kill him. Don’t bother.” Sila curled further around her shoulder, until bronze intertwined with the fabric of her clothes. “Are you going into the Safe Haven, after all of this?”
The flicker of the blink hares barely caught her eye – Fangorn noticed with a slight bumble and grumble of his vocals, but she was too absorbed in the multitudes of the present to worry much. Nor about the dead water horse further away, unnoticed presently.
A pause, a narrowing of her eyes, a twist and turn of how she felt about bloodline ties. “You won’t be able to kill him. Don’t bother.” Sila curled further around her shoulder, until bronze intertwined with the fabric of her clothes. “Are you going into the Safe Haven, after all of this?”
The flicker of the blink hares barely caught her eye – Fangorn noticed with a slight bumble and grumble of his vocals, but she was too absorbed in the multitudes of the present to worry much. Nor about the dead water horse further away, unnoticed presently.
I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
