MELITA
Acceptance and approval noted, and then the chase was on. Melita folded her arms and waited patiently, knowing the depths of her own speed, or combining it into the thrill of the hunt (or something like that). Fangorn bobbed up and down, ready to roll and launch and leap, and the youth watched until Paige was nearly out of sight…And then she was off.
Darting around market-goers had become a pastime for her, simply through a collective of speed, impatience, and endless bounds of energy, fervency, and some unrelenting restlessness. Her longer limbs flew over cobblestones, angling around one particular merchant who’d already begun grumbling, until she could see Paige on the other side.
Fangorn might’ve had the upper hand on that end (though certainly not in speed). Flickering along feet, launching in his own grumbling accord, the gourd reached out with one vine to tap on the child.
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
Give the bruises out like gifts
