Rainforest Cliffs
08-01-2017, 12:10 AM
Melita was part shield, part sword, for her sister – would do anything for her, would hasten brutality, ferocity, and barbarity to ensure Clementine was never harmed, beaten, or broken down. But she didn’t know what to do in this situation, when their youth fluttered carelessly in front of them, when their ignorance tied them up in strings and knots, when chaos had descended so swiftly, so powerfully, and she lacked the guidance, the wisdom, to do anything but listen. She was made of impulsiveness, bravery, and audacity, and it churned through her stomach to feel her sister tremble beside her – lending only her shoulder, only her strength, to conquer the wayward demons, the shifting shadows, the callous contortions of everything mottled and blemished before them.
But at least they weren’t alone – they still had each other. They always would. The honeybee girl would make sure of that.
“Yes,” she vowed, nodded at her twin’s decree, pretending that everything was fine, they could gain wisdom and sagacity from the cold, unfeeling, eldritch reaches of this world, become another schism in the growing sedition. “We’ll go exploring and learn. Maybe we’ll even find mom! It’ll be an adventure!” She said it with so much cheer, so much exuberance, so much wild, untamed intonations, in hopes of preserving Clementine’s dreams, in whittling and shaping a series of machinations and quiet, unsung rebellion. Her smile widened, and her features sculpted a whimsical outline – full of indomitable fire and tenacity.
But at least they weren’t alone – they still had each other. They always would. The honeybee girl would make sure of that.
“Yes,” she vowed, nodded at her twin’s decree, pretending that everything was fine, they could gain wisdom and sagacity from the cold, unfeeling, eldritch reaches of this world, become another schism in the growing sedition. “We’ll go exploring and learn. Maybe we’ll even find mom! It’ll be an adventure!” She said it with so much cheer, so much exuberance, so much wild, untamed intonations, in hopes of preserving Clementine’s dreams, in whittling and shaping a series of machinations and quiet, unsung rebellion. Her smile widened, and her features sculpted a whimsical outline – full of indomitable fire and tenacity.
Melita
the fires found a home in me
@Clementine
