a little violence as a treat

your dreams are all full of war
you are from another time

The instant he mentioned scorch magic, Melita thought about snagging it for herself – but once he rendered into his new methods, she was rather distracted from the idea. Instead, her eyes widened as he hovered overhead, and then promptly descended upon the nearest squirrel like it was nothing more than a toothpick. ”Nice!” she called out, suitably impressed.

But then, because these rodents were stupid, another fresh batch of curious onlookers seemed to want involvement in their friend’s sudden and momentous disappearance. It didn’t appear to matter that they’d have no way of stopping the onslaught (save for pissing off and running away), she could hear the fresh squeaking of Follow me! and No! though none of it sounded like it was in mourning decibels. Snorting, she unfurled another cannon fire blast, right into the makeshift fodder, and there was another bright spray of confetti to land upon desecrated squirrel corpses.

salvation doesn't look like light
So what remains?

Melita