[PQ] rub some dirt in it

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

Ronin came over to applaud her work, and received the beam of her smile in response. Thereafter, she was tasked with other associations: painting targets. A more mischievous glimmer bristled and clawed its way along her grin, but she said naught about the ramifications behind it, nodding at his request. While Fangorn was distracted with Isuma, the honeybee girl collected the crimson pot of paint, grabbing hold, swinging it on her arm as if it were naught more than a picnic basket, before rambling back to the hay bales. Her mouth twitched in impish leagues, at first corresponding to familiar targets, stroking her paintbrush over the smallest bundle of haybales with the usual red dot, big, then building upon the outer circles. She left a little space in between each sphere, then stepped back to admire her work. The youth nodded, then continued on. The second haybale group received a little more expression in their pictures: scrawling out pictures of animals on each, a deer in the center, a flinthopper on the other. When she moved onto the third, she dug in with relish, paintbrush flying over the three bales stacked, until each one resembled some disturbing face, caricatures of threatening adversaries and enemies, complete with fangs, massive noses, and big bulging eyes. They were no one in particular, unless an individual squinted hard enough, associated certain characteristics of those around Caido. “There!” She brushed her hands together and dropped the brush back into the bucket, tilting her head to eye the beauty of her work. M e l i t a But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power I'll find a way to be without you, babe