Writers keep writing what they write - Singing + bonfire

[SirDio]

MEDUSA, THE FIRESTARTER

The night held no solace for the pained hybrid. Night after night would Stheno visit her in her dreams, torturing her with visions of death and loss. Of burning beach and camp, of bodies strewn about the lands with her in the middle, Stheno by her side. So instead of sleeping she stayed up, usually wandering the forest, or in this case, setting small bonfires on the beach, some distance from camp.

Logs and sticks and twigs lay in a large pile. Medusa's paw was lit in a brilliant white flame that she pressed against the logs and urged it to burn, releasing her paw and hold of the flames that licked and grew and smoldered and became a beautiful masterpiece. She sat before it, bathing in the heat, basking in the tremor of the air as the fire was fueled. Deep breath of dry air was taken in, and she sang into the fire, to Stheno and all she had caused.

"All the writers keep writing what they write
Somewhere another pretty vein just dies
I've got the scars from tomorrow and I wish you could see
That you’re the antidote to everything except for me, me

A constellation of tears on your lashes
Burn everything you love, then burn the ashes
In the end everything collides
My childhood spat back out the monster that you see"

Her singing became a yell over the fire, for she was far enough from camp that no one would be able to hear unless their hearing was good.

"My songs know what you did in the dark

So light 'em up, up, up
Light 'em up, up, up
Light 'em up, up, up
I'm on fire

So light 'em up, up, up
Light 'em up, up, up
Light 'em up, up, up
I'm on fire!"

I'VE BEEN SEARCHING FOR AN ANSWER BUT I AIN'T FOUND ONE,
I'VE BEEN KNOWN TO TEAR SHIT UP AND GO OFF LIKE A GUN!

— Reggan