Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
How quiet was it under the waves, where most of the land dwellers couldn’t interfere? Melita figured there were probably still inter-mermaid politics or some other dramatics that made up worlds, or perhaps some monsters dredging up trouble (did they have as many problems with ghost whales?). The Honeybee wouldn’t know much about hushed platitudes, given her recent ventures and who she was as a person, but maybe it was nice. Like the calm before a storm.
Her head shifted, eyes glancing away from the food cooking over the open flame and back to Hadama. “Mhm! I’m roasting some ramphire!” Fangorn, with his long, strong vines, aimed to turn the spit this time, twirling it a couple successions as the embers rose and the kindling cracked. “What do you guys have for meat?” She presumed not much else besides fish, fish, and more fish.
Her head shifted, eyes glancing away from the food cooking over the open flame and back to Hadama. “Mhm! I’m roasting some ramphire!” Fangorn, with his long, strong vines, aimed to turn the spit this time, twirling it a couple successions as the embers rose and the kindling cracked. “What do you guys have for meat?” She presumed not much else besides fish, fish, and more fish.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
