MELITA
She could hear only a mild commotion erupting from her actions; and perhaps that was all she needed. Just a little abrupt nuance. Just a little mild bullying. Just a little touch of bedlam amidst a torrent of actions circling around them – and suddenly out of sight, out of mind. Her gaze flicked back to Hawthorn and anyone around, amused with herself, before she returned back near Iskra. It took a bit while longer than she’d planned, coming from the opposing side from where she’d left, and with another round of snacks in her hands (something about pretzels – she’d gotten a couple flavors dipped in either mustard or cinnamon sugar).
Appearing as if she’d never left, she grinned and held some out to him. “That pun was awful.”
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
