The Honeybee
I believe in holding grudges
I'll heal in hell
A look of pure bafflement and bewilderment struck the Honeybee and pumpkin in turn, both heads shifting to watch as Flora came chirping through – it took more than a few seconds of blinking for Melita to come back to reality and realize what had occurred, enough to snort and for the gourd to tumble around. “It’s true. But I have a feather from the KingMaker I should use.” Which was the only explanation for even veering towards healing, considering who the woman was. All sting and vitriol, with nary a thought of mending. I'll heal in hell
Though perhaps that could be construed vaguely too, her eyes going towards the sand and the bottle in her hand instead of the Doubletake. “Go ahead.” Her eyes did go to the companion though, and she could feel her own curl behind her curtain of hair, hidden from view. “Nice dragon.” Quietly, fingers shifting along the cool glass, her shoulders shrugged. “Sorry about the issues at the karaoke.” She might’ve been more apologetic if she’d left blood on the floor, but somehow she felt dissatisfied that none had been spilt either – mercurial in her efforts.
Pay a little more attention to the healing power
of incandescent rage
of incandescent rage
Melita
