[se] tarnished but grand

The Honeybee

I believe in holding grudges
I'll heal in hell

Considering Melita kept multitudes of knives beneath the seams of her dresses, she didn’t even blink as Flora did the same. “Ooooh,” came on a complimentary sound though, as the daggers, and warnings, were extended. Heeding it, though barely, with the lightest touch of a smirk as her finger danced neatly over the edge, she perused and studied, meticulous with a weapon. “Not a bad idea. The KingMaker’s is supposed to be for healing…but that doesn’t mean I can’t ask for other things down the road.” Humming lightly at the subject, for it was one of her favorites, she passed the armament back to the Doubletake. “I was thinking something like my arrows…,” amidst the whole realm of elements at her quiver.

Her eyes did watch the other dragonling carefully, but given Sila’s shyness, and Spice’s imminent corralling, there didn’t seem to be anything amiss. “Of course,” and she smiled, laughing. “Well, congratulations just the same.”

Then the other filaments fell, and she took a swig of her drink, a dramatic roll of her eyes immediately after. “Gods, fuck if I know. He’s always hung around, but I’ve never given him the time of day. Then there was the whole limbo fiasco.” Not the slightest bit of interest, other than to ponder how she could escape or murder him. The second statement made her furrowed brows jump upward though, a heady blink and a shake of her head in bewilderment. “Ru?” She’d eat him alive. What on earth would the Valkyrie see in that doofus? “Gross.”

Pay a little more attention to the healing power
of incandescent rage

Melita