Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Oh. Melita hadn’t been thinking about the potential backlash upon the merman. Contemplation for her usually went out the window the moment the impulsive notions started. “That’s fair,” she acknowledged with another nod, adjusting her position on the staff, and along the pool, figuring if she hit it, it’d go sailing beyond Hadama’s frame, and somewhere else in the vicinity.
And sure enough; as he lobbed, she struck, and it made a lovely, graceful arch, before descending into the abyss. “We helped the L’ma before!” She uttered and chirped, by some stroke of triumph, as she closed her eyes and made a wish. A simple one – before snagging at a smaller stone and tossing it over to him again. “Have you ever seen it?”
And sure enough; as he lobbed, she struck, and it made a lovely, graceful arch, before descending into the abyss. “We helped the L’ma before!” She uttered and chirped, by some stroke of triumph, as she closed her eyes and made a wish. A simple one – before snagging at a smaller stone and tossing it over to him again. “Have you ever seen it?”
I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
