you must burn brighter than ever
The arrows seemed to have done some good; enough for Locke to make his way through, enough for the bridge to remain in place, enough for some semblance of peace amidst and amongst the bizarre interfolds. She tucked her arrows away, watching some ramble and amble off, snagging at Fangorn to be in her arms instead of her weapons, placing her chin on the top of his cranium while he grumbled something.
She only brought any further attention into the fold at Locke’s inquiry from his own tree, her brows furrowing beneath canopies and leaflets. “I don’t know. It hasn’t been this bad in a while. They usually stay in the Hollowed Grounds.” Then the youth shook her head, because there had been another instance. “Once before, when the blight was going strong, the Punking came out – full of the sickness, trying to get to the Greatwood. We had to get rid of it.” Was there another lurking? Or something worse?
She only brought any further attention into the fold at Locke’s inquiry from his own tree, her brows furrowing beneath canopies and leaflets. “I don’t know. It hasn’t been this bad in a while. They usually stay in the Hollowed Grounds.” Then the youth shook her head, because there had been another instance. “Once before, when the blight was going strong, the Punking came out – full of the sickness, trying to get to the Greatwood. We had to get rid of it.” Was there another lurking? Or something worse?
Melita
