to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Taking a swig of the liquor, and a stick and marshmallow of her own, the youth readily applied to setting it ablaze. In no time at all, the marshmallow had burnt; far more than crispy edges, blackened and sooty. Frowning, she offered it to Fangorn – who had the wherewithal to look suitably offended, and she shrugged. Trying again, without reeling the poor thing straight into the flames, she began to rotate it slowly, gilded eyes finally glancing up through the flames to catch at Milo’s words.She hadn’t heard of a ship called the Sanguine Rift, and she leaned in closer, retrieving the marshmallow, and working far easier, better, on this one. Attention rapt on food and story, she nodded along, quite indulgent.
Could she guess what happened? It was a ghost story after all. She paused, tapping on her chin, ignoring the mess she was making across her face. “No,” she giggled. “What happened?”
to be the sun
MELITA
