MELITA
The Honeybee had never been known for her caution – for it barely existed. Sometimes in maturity she found herself capable of holding back something that would otherwise bristle across her tongue, but otherwise, the emboldened, audacious sanctions snared and defined. Triumphant in her glee and snagged discovery, any wondering about who it might have belonged to didn’t much matter to her – she doubted any animal would be printing hot air balloons on the sides of their eggs anytime soon. Ensuring it was melded within her pockets for further perusal later, all the fiery ambition was stoked right back into her wild finery. The ease of her grin remained as Iskra wandered further, deep into the wreckage and ruin of bones. “Could be lots of things. We’ve fought weird shit and landsharks out here before,” she shrugged, hopping over a much larger portion of a spinal column with ease. Doubting he’d want to hear yet another monster story; especially the one with all the bones and then her and Ronin accidentally blowing more than that up, she skirted around a few other bleached fossils, absorbed in the task.
As he stumbled though, her head flared back up, brow arching as she scurried back over. Crouching to inspect, her features rendered into a nod, finding it acceptable. Digging down further, she pried a part of it upwards so he could see it with clearer distinctions. “Neat. Don’t see why it couldn’t work.”
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
