MELITA
Ludo’s Woods were by far one of her favorite haunts – for obvious reasons – but she twisted and turned amidst the saplings and isles of trees as if lured by its lanterns and boughs, and not quite sure what they were doing lately, leaving offerings was probably a safer thing. Charitably, she did the same as before – squarely centering herself before the altar, and placing items from her bag, one by one by one. “Seeee, this is how it's done,” she smirked back at Iskra – as if he’d never done it before (and to be fair…last time had been in Halo, so). First, some sour lemon drops, snagged and bartered from the Fae, and then a set of toy soldiers accompanied by a warrior princess, her sword in hand as she parted the fray, and then a touch of her own mystique. “Then I’ll put some glitter or ducks or something..,” for fun. Ludo would appreciate it.
Except, despite her claims, it came with a sudden nap – as all the random, wild, fractious magic could only muster what the bedlam decided. She immediately fell asleep in the middle of some ferns – and if the Abandoned was concerned, perhaps the rolling eyes of her companions would lend to not being toooo terribly bothered.
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
