Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
Melita was, if anything at all, a boundless, determined spirit. Of what, one might not want to say (haunted, depraved things or Ludo’s chaotic enterprises set forth in someone who really shouldn’t have ever had free rein on calamity)…but there she was, eyes narrowed and staring at a patch of poppy-like flowers.
Like, maybe they’d simply get up and get into her bag on their own.
Sighing, she contemplated the contents of her bag. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought things through. She had grabbed some oven mitts – those were thick – some neat heat-resistant gloves from the market that she didn’t wholly trust, and then there was a couple sticks that she figured she could just bend a little and stab at the things…they’d come down eventually. “Okay,” she muttered to Sila and Fangorn, who wisely stood off to the side and looked at each other as if waiting to see who’d be the one dealing with a burnt Honeybee. “I’m going to try the sticks first.”
Like, maybe they’d simply get up and get into her bag on their own.
Sighing, she contemplated the contents of her bag. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought things through. She had grabbed some oven mitts – those were thick – some neat heat-resistant gloves from the market that she didn’t wholly trust, and then there was a couple sticks that she figured she could just bend a little and stab at the things…they’d come down eventually. “Okay,” she muttered to Sila and Fangorn, who wisely stood off to the side and looked at each other as if waiting to see who’d be the one dealing with a burnt Honeybee. “I’m going to try the sticks first.”
Melita
