MELITA
There was a wry grin, a Cheshire smirk, a feral snicker enveloping over her features immediately upon spotting the molten tiger. Drawing her bow, she watched as Ray slunk forward, pondering over which element to utilize. Not one to speculate for long periods of time, her fingers tucked along one of the electric demeanor in her quiver, listening to it snap and spark as she notched it in place.Taking careful aim, the youth intended not for anywhere near Ray, but perhaps the tiger’s flank – not a killing blow, but something intending warning, dominion, and supremacy in the armament department.
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Melita tries to shoot the molten tiger with her electric arrow!
She's so hard to please
But she's a forest fire
But she's a forest fire
