to be lit up from within
vein by vein
An appearance within the Hollowed Grounds was a rarity for her – but nosiness and curiosity beckoned like old friends, just as much as bedlam did. The opportunity to lay waste to the Spire (with the range of her audacity and boldness) may have been part of an inspiration, and the other, simply for some portions of nostalgia. She hadn’t been sad or despondent to leave this world behind. It laid like shadows over the depths of her mind with all the other brimming scars of lost souls and rapacious claws; fitting to see it still striving to survive, even after all these years. Where some prospects seemed to be catching, like fires and infernos, others remained cool and stonelike, disappearing into the ruins and regions, just like so many of its surviving inhabitants.
The Honeybee fought the edge of her wrinkled nose down as she entered the bar – recognizable in some edges of her uncle’s touch, the lights a bit too much, but no one seemed bothered by her presence. Some could’ve recognized her, and some had long since forgotten, and it didn’t seem to matter to the woman one way or the other. Fangorn bobbed alongside her ankles, avoiding the usual bout of stares, while Sila sat perched on her shoulder, one move away from hiding in her curtain of hair.
Turning to the bartender, the smuggler snagged a drink of choice, before sauntering further into the midst of the familiar and strange alike, scouring for an unclaimed seat.
to be the sun
MELITA
