MELITA
Unbothered if one should take pride in being called a potentially fantastic cat, she gloated just the same at the complimentary exasperations of being an uncontrolled force. Raising her chin in defiance once more, her seditious smile gleaned at the prospects; Iskra knew enough that she wasn’t to be contained (feral, as it were, and she would’ve torn apart his furniture without a singular thought), and she already took swipes when it wasn’t necessary at all. “You know me so well,” she granted instead, pleased; before the next round of ridiculous antics began their initial unwinding.The people in this section do happen to be very dull; perhaps this was the late-morning crew who shuffled in, half-tired and barely keeping their eyes open. Children appeared to be under control, adults were handing each other coffees, making gestures or pointing towards the predators nearby with calm, controlled mannerisms. Booooring.
Still, she could see one of the shadowfangs lingering closer to the enclosure, silent and stoic gaze pinpointing on a toddler waving at it. Would that count? Surreptiously, she reached for her pocket full of stickers, trying to place one on her board before he could notice.
Though Iskra was enough of a distraction, and she gave a matching and encouraging, wolfish grin. “Please do. We can see who is the loudest.” Might wake some of the other occupants up too.
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
