but there's chaos brewing
underneath my skin
Reconstruction of targets was not Melita’s forte – plain to see when the haphazard pile of rocks had been scattered from their fallen, toppled tower amidst the world beyond her snagged house. What had once been leaning and precarious before, now had flickered downward in saddened remnants – and with a huff, as if she had expected the damned things to last under her ridiculous building, she began to collect the rocks, wood, and sticks all over again.
Fangorn did his best to aid, long vines stretching and snagging at the smaller pebbles. Sila hovered, willing and able to place proportions higher if need be, given her wings, but the Honeybee had gotten long past the semblance of irritation, and they’d be lucky if the makeshift effigies would happen at all. Residual growls lingered as she began the painstaking process, placing one giant rock down again, over places of marked grass.
Fangorn did his best to aid, long vines stretching and snagging at the smaller pebbles. Sila hovered, willing and able to place proportions higher if need be, given her wings, but the Honeybee had gotten long past the semblance of irritation, and they’d be lucky if the makeshift effigies would happen at all. Residual growls lingered as she began the painstaking process, placing one giant rock down again, over places of marked grass.
trying to hold in the storm
instead of making waves
MELITA
