MELITA
Melita’s life had never once revolved academics, so she glanced up from the butterfly for an instant, looking at Niki as if to quantify or realize what scholars looked and behaved like. It was understandable, likely an instant later, as to why he might approach that role, instead of action. But even with his leg…she could imagine incantations to still be a devastating and wicked blow, depending on what was stored within. Or if he could manage to get portions healed, find a quick way to escape if things became rough…But avoidance sounded beneficial too, in the end, rather than wading through the other landscapes of debacles and mishaps. “Mm. I haven’t been involved in any butterfly monster antics either,” she hummed, granting a mischievous smile.
And she wasn’t appalled by the magic floating along her fingertips now. Intrigued, definitely, and mildly bewildered. A horde of inquiries floating through her mind – unsettled, pondering if this was a cruel and unusual torment for the creature, to be given such moments only to have it ripped away again soon after. Maybe it didn’t realize it all, like so many of them when they’d been sent over to Mort’s realm. She didn’t know whether to pity it or not, and in the end, gently allowed it to settle back from where it started. “It must take a lot of concentration,” she offered, rather than everything else; quieter now in her scheming.
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
