Lion Head Mesa You're a faded moon, stuck on a little hot mess

In The Gilded Sea, among the family Melody had been raised in, art in all its forms was a fact of life. She had even been named after one, but singing was not all that she had been taught to do. Melody Medeiros was a dancer too, and a painter, and sometimes a poet, though not a very good one.

Today she would be a painter.

She'd spent a little while collecting things, and now stood in front of one of the walls of her room with all of it gathered beside her. Melody ran one paw over the wall, taking in the texture of it. She only hesitated for a moment after that.

Then she painted The Gilded Sea. The vast expanse of dull gold against a pale sky, the brighter yellow-gold glow of the sun over it all. The fierce burn of flame at one side of the wall, and the silverblue mist of rain at the other. When she was satisfied, Melody stepped back to admire her work only for a moment, smeared in her paints.

Then she collapsed into her bed and slept.