Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
The distance outcry made her snort, and then ponder over switching weapons. While her staff was the favorite, it didn’t herald quite the same range as her bow, and she permitted the injured invalid to catch up while she placed the armament along her belt, and opted for another. Drawing her motions back from the bracelet on her wrist, the archer incantations rendered corporeal and tangible in her grasp, callouses well-formed over the hilt and strand. “Yeah. I just find them obnoxious.” Meat, meat echoed again, and she rolled her eyes, selecting a lightning arrow to notch and ready.
Then she kept on walking, unbothered by any state of panic. Fangorn bobbled along, rolling occasionally and picking up some nearby rocks in his vines. “I thought she was nice. Beautiful.” well before her uncle was dumb enough to become swindled and enchanted and then nearly destroyed. “We exchanged some rocks.” Pretty little ivory ones she still kept on her mantle. "We owe a lot to her in Torchline."
Then she kept on walking, unbothered by any state of panic. Fangorn bobbled along, rolling occasionally and picking up some nearby rocks in his vines. “I thought she was nice. Beautiful.” well before her uncle was dumb enough to become swindled and enchanted and then nearly destroyed. “We exchanged some rocks.” Pretty little ivory ones she still kept on her mantle. "We owe a lot to her in Torchline."
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
