MELITA
Considering taking care of herself, Fangorn, and any host of responsibilities she’d managed to snag along the way was an undertaking, Melita could only shake her head at Hotaru’s insistence. “I hope you make time for yourself too,” or maybe that was what this occasion had become.Regardless, she placed the ash further into her bounty, fingers splaying through it so they were inevitably soot-stained. “They left it behind,” she murmured, another shrug undulating through her shoulders, and her too by the way of it. But she wasn’t going to let it get her down, and the echoes of those thoughts were abandoned for greater potential. “I wasn’t going to let it go to waste.” None of her actions would be – in all her steadfast, unrelenting glory. She pooled some more of the collected filaments in between her hands, maneuvering them out of her hold soon after.
The notions thereafter and the hand on her arm gave her pause, a rumination with a furrowed brow and gilded gaze. “What do you mean? I can defend myself perfectly fine.” Sometimes she thought of herself as a pulsing, infernal threat, and there were days marked by her ruthlessness, waiting to be unleashed from her threshold; barely, briefly contained.
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
