MELITA
Melita looked away as Flora ruminated on ‘calling Ronin’ and ‘just because someone was an idiot’, pretending to be very interested and intrigued by a bug on a nearby plant. “Yeah, true.” Stretching her arms upward as if warming up to be said fool, she rallied on alternating subject lines. “Maybe we ought to gather a crew to tackle the Greatwood or Feverlands then, if we can’t find these fuckin’ flowers. I don’t remember them being so hard to find before.” At the question, she did manage a cackle. “Oh yeah, Koa asked me ages ago. I never really gave him much of an answer.” Sila had been young, and Melita had been busy doing Melita things. Not that she wasn’t now, but the motivations had been slightly altered. “I’m not sure they could handle me anyway.” She gave a bright grin and a wink exchange; because she rarely followed anyone’s orders and the strict notions of being a soldier and marching around made her want to break out in hives. “Did they recruit you?” Flora had a dragon after all – and while she was quite occupied in Queen duties, the Honeybee could imagine her pseudo-almost-cousin could probably manage other duties.
When she wasn’t busy with Jack – gods, ew. The Doubletake would be wise to not ask Melita her opinion on the matter, even if her facial expressions were enough of a clue. He was old. He was her boss. And he was a persnickety shit. Even if he did let her shoot the Spire.
Then they were on other topics, thank the gods, and she perked up again. “Oooh, fun! I can do that.” And there were multitudes of ways, and quite frankly, the smuggler didn’t know which way some would fall. Heh. “Let me know when you’re ready then.”
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
Give the bruises out like gifts
