Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
There might’ve been opportunities for the Hollowed portions to not be so damned and doomed; but it seemed despite interests prior, no one had taken up the mantle. Melita figured the work would be something nearly insurmountable, but if they had a core group?
Eh, whatever. It wasn’t going to be her.
Snagging at another few sips of water before applying herself back to her vegetables, her brow arched at the indication of the LongNight traumas still pressing. She didn’t do the same – Torchline had the freedom of bonfires, drunken stupidity, and ridiculous antics to keep all that apprehension at bay. “Still collecting snow moss and barricading the doors and windows?” Maybe all the monsters were gone, but their memories remained, vigilant and horrifying.
Eh, whatever. It wasn’t going to be her.
Snagging at another few sips of water before applying herself back to her vegetables, her brow arched at the indication of the LongNight traumas still pressing. She didn’t do the same – Torchline had the freedom of bonfires, drunken stupidity, and ridiculous antics to keep all that apprehension at bay. “Still collecting snow moss and barricading the doors and windows?” Maybe all the monsters were gone, but their memories remained, vigilant and horrifying.
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
