MELITA
Melita rarely cared about disappointing many – fuck, sometimes she went out of her way to be a spiteful little hag. But demigodhood carried a certain weight, and though she’d intended to keep Ludo content and happy with her occupational menacing, she also didn’t want to be on the receiving end of punishing blows. She couldn’t even recall a time the herald had ever been displeased by her antics; and to have it simply been there because Iskra had wanted support also gnawed at her spine.Though the cutting edge he launched against himself made her head turn quickly, sharply back towards him, brows furrowed. “That is not what I meant,” because she’d never cared about anyone’s magic – and the fine line separating most of them were ordained portions from the gods themselves, and those that could contort it through their own lineage and heritage. All that spite because of one shitty individual, who was no longer there, long since gone and destroyed and done. Maybe she was just irritated and annoyed for Iskra’s sake. “That whole shitshow is dumb.”
And while she flared and fired up again, eyes narrowing dangerously, she glared back at the sand, kicking at a stray rock. “We’ll make it better or something,” like boundless determination would be all it took. Well, and some luck, and assurance that he brought the right offerings and in the right location. “It likes cats too,” came on an additional note and afterthought.
Thereafter she huffed, nose wrinkling, until she saw something ahead, nestled amidst the ground along the center of hoards of other bones. “Anything here look good?”
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
