[se] tangled in the red

Melita

Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down

Not used to flattery, her brow arched, uncertain if she was supposed to be convinced by the argument. Hadn’t there been plenty more of them to be impressed by – like Remi or Ronin? “Maybe,” she finally answered, with little to no definition. Traversing towards Stormbreak, or the mere notion of it, would have to be given time and space from her initial, impulsive, mulish reaction.

Pipsqueak was a welcome distraction anyway from the topic, and the mess was all the more pleasing. Fangorn waved his vines around, eerie grin fixated on the other dragon, and then plucked a rock and threw it, clearly intending to start some measure of catch. Sila, in her typical bashful self, retreated immediately back to Melita’s curtain of hair, tucked away and out of range. “She’s shy,” Melita offered. “But thank you. How did you find Pipsqueak?"

As for the pumpkin…”Fangorn is a vampire gourd. They’re all over the Hollowed Grounds this time of year.” Thoughtful, while she scratched the bronze dragon’s shoulders, attempting to alleviate her of any residual fears. “He’s pretty smart. And they know how to survive.” Given how many people tried to eat them.

to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun