Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
Fangorn, relishing the opportunity, rushed forward and despite the warning, fervently sipped and sloshed, slobbering a majority of it on the floor. While Melita sighed and went to clean it up, the gourd didn’t seem to care, gobbling the ichor down with aplomb and satisfaction. A grumble followed thereafter, of contentment, one would hope and derive, before he sauntered off into a corner, to either quietly digest and nap. The youth snorted, a light shrug once she’d picked up the remnants of the bowl. “Guess that was successful.” Maybe it’d been the length of time in between true, bloodied feedings, and for some reason she felt a pang of regret, somewhere immersed in the back of her mind.
But they moved forward, and the youth arched a brow as he seemed to wonder, peruse over his lists of enemies. Of all the names that could’ve spiraled through, for some reason she didn’t expect the named Ascended. “Amun? Why?” Perhaps she’d missed something there – head spiraling around, striving to understand occurrences, other parameters she remained blissfully unaware of. The honeybee girl rather enjoyed him, and so ignored the fact that she was supposed to be spinning up lines of insults at him.
But they moved forward, and the youth arched a brow as he seemed to wonder, peruse over his lists of enemies. Of all the names that could’ve spiraled through, for some reason she didn’t expect the named Ascended. “Amun? Why?” Perhaps she’d missed something there – head spiraling around, striving to understand occurrences, other parameters she remained blissfully unaware of. The honeybee girl rather enjoyed him, and so ignored the fact that she was supposed to be spinning up lines of insults at him.
Melita
