[se] scruff of the neck

The Honeybee

I believe in holding grudges
I'll heal in hell

Melita wouldn’t know about shadows, because she wandered directly into sunlight and never looked back. If Noe asked, the Honeybee would suggest the same, in all her blatant, defiant glory, jaw raised to the sky and no fucks to give.

Alas, they were stuck in the perpetual cycle of discussing weather, so.

Tossing a couple other bottles and cans, she studied the framework of the impending fire pit, watched as it seemed ready to topple over, shrugged, and then carried on about her work. “I don’t know if it’s all related to everything else,” she offered with a wave of her hand. “But still fucky.”

As for LongNight, she snorted, eternally amused. “Of course. Torchline is always worth checking out.”

Pay a little more attention to the healing power
of incandescent rage

Melita