Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
She probably should’ve known better, but to alleviate discomfort was to place some firmly back on him. “Oh. What’s the quest for?” Cutting into her steak, and lifting the fork to her mouth, she listened thoughtfully, chewing, nodding along, content the food was edible. Before diving into her potatoes and side dishes though, she arched a brow, uncertain if she’d heard the name before. “Is that your…brothel?” Uncertain how to word it any other way, she shrugged, and then snagged further into her food.
The corresponding question left her eyes rolling and putting her glass of water back down with an audible thud. “Gods.” Wrinkling her nose and striving, with great difficulty, not to break into a snarl, the youth persisted and continued. “Spire’s still there. Lots of lightning around it now. But lots of farmland. Islands.” And the ever-present emotional trauma, lingering in the back of her mind for Jack to suffer with.
The corresponding question left her eyes rolling and putting her glass of water back down with an audible thud. “Gods.” Wrinkling her nose and striving, with great difficulty, not to break into a snarl, the youth persisted and continued. “Spire’s still there. Lots of lightning around it now. But lots of farmland. Islands.” And the ever-present emotional trauma, lingering in the back of her mind for Jack to suffer with.
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
