Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
Melita ducked, an age-old tradition of striving to avoid those measures without any other semblance of thought. Unfortunately, it didn’t work quite the way she wanted; though it missed her chest, Sohalia’s staff countered directly into her collarbone, inciting an oomph and a snarl. Not for the youth, but for her own stupidity.
Attempting to ensure that wouldn’t happen again, the Honeybee rallied back, twisting, turning, and bounding to Sohalia’s right. From a logical standpoint, a rare occasion in Melita’s thoughts, she was aiming, intending, to go for the woman’s unprotected back, swinging towards her spine in a jovial pursuit, rather than anything truly haphazard or alarming. She knew the damage she was capable of.
Attempting to ensure that wouldn’t happen again, the Honeybee rallied back, twisting, turning, and bounding to Sohalia’s right. From a logical standpoint, a rare occasion in Melita’s thoughts, she was aiming, intending, to go for the woman’s unprotected back, swinging towards her spine in a jovial pursuit, rather than anything truly haphazard or alarming. She knew the damage she was capable of.
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
