don't ruin this on me

your dreams are all full of war
you are from another time

Melita shrugged too, not losing the scowl on her face, eyes narrowing ever so slightly every time Dahlia seemed to grow more comfortable on her skyboat.

The idea of compensation did have her gaze widening for half a moment – as the Honeybee wasn’t above bribery. The schooner was a prime example. However, she had no idea of what Dahlia could extend, save for infection or death, and she wasn’t real keen on becoming some mindless puppet for anyone, or sent off to Mort’s realm so soon after her last trip. So she’d play a little, head tilting vaguely, mind putting in some thoughts that weren’t all acerbic and bitchy. “What can you offer?”

salvation doesn't look like light
So what remains?

Melita