It has the appearance of a butterfly—a moth, perhaps—set aflame.
Nay, allow me to rearticulate. It would be more evocative to say that the flame itself has taken the form of such an insect.
It is surrounded by a crowd of red, fiery sparks.
This brings to mind memories from my youth. Oft did I collect twigs only to set them ablaze to watch as the fire consumed them.
The very same embers that disappeared into the night sky can be observed from this entity.
Watching the little bonfire, watching the twigs turn into bright red lanterns, then into black soot—I could not help but reach out to appreciate its warmth.
Many share this sentiment, no? We need not touch the fire to know that it blisters our skin and burns our bones. Yet we still yearn for its heat, to grow nearer to it.
Perhaps I had mused as such as its blaze danced and flickered so gently before us.
Such is all I have to say.
→ Right, mate, but fancy speech doesn’t explain why you decided to stroll right under its nose and burn yourself to a crisp, does it? (Heathcliff)
→ We have garnered a piece of useful intelligence from his death, however. The ‘embers’ Yi Sang brought back could spread to others under certain circumstances. (Faust)
→ … And it spread right onto you and burned your skin. Most people I know would have a little more intense reaction to getting burned alive. (Ishmael)
→ Well, yes. But the pain was relatively manageable. (Faust)