MELITA
If anything, Oliver’s nervousness seemed to make the entire situation worse – Fangorn feeding and feasting upon the fear and trepidation brewing their way into the atmosphere. Very rarely was anyone ever terrorized by his existence, and he reveled in the irreverence while Melita rolled her eyes. “Very much so,” she joked. Fangorn was usually fairly innocent despite the ghoulish smile and the eerie eyes; harmless as long as Oliver didn’t mind ankles being gnawed upon.The girl smiled at the luxere conversation though, always inspired by their gentle ways and innocent philosophy, simultaneously shocked whenever they were lured by her lack of musical talent. She even laughed at Oliver’s following comment, to enjoy herself no matter how poorly she performed. “That’s the spirit.” She hadn’t stopped. She hadn’t ceased. And no one had ever asked her to – so with a shrug, she meandered on.
He didn’t seem enthused about the possibility of monsters, but given his predilections towards Fangorn, she probably wouldn’t persist along those avenues; not too far at least. “Maybe,” but her grin was massive and Cheshire while she worked, fingers dabbing along the muck, and still shooing some away with her foot, listening to them plop off the bridge and down into the ether. Her experience with monsters had been the direct opposite. She kept the notions to herself.
Interest in Ludo had piqued though, so the grin slid into more of a genuine smile, lacking the fundamental mischief. “Have you met any gods?”
She's so hard to please
But she's a forest fire
But she's a forest fire
