MELITA
She laughed and laughed, boisterous and rowdy, the kind of explosive, mercurial whims cascading from her as they once had in Helovia – a child of the desert and sun, dragon calls in her throat. She took his extended hand and twirled along its grasp, bending and twisting, tucking Fangorn into her chest so he wouldn’t have to continue experiencing full, outright terror. She frolicked at the end of Remi's line, like a tether, like a rope, spinning in tight loops and springing steps, her giggles contagious, silly, and ridiculous. She breathed in the essence of jubilation and free spirit, closed her eyes for a second just to simmer and sink into the breeze caressing along her face, and when she opened them again, she simply saw his comical confusion.It was play and jest, and she took hold of the game too, varnished its lacquer upon herself with grace and ease. “Yes – I shall be the pumpkin and gourd Amazon, renowned for her ability to harness such wild, vicious beasts!” She chuckled again, high and prosperous, before bewitching her smile to the outer world, staring at the open, wide plain with its music, with its gaiety, with its frivolous junctures desperately clinging to those refrains of hope and folly. “To become stronger,” she added, a little quieter, arched brows and defiance in her gaze as she swung it back to him, almost daring him to say it wasn’t meant to be. You’ll see she could’ve howled, but let the roar simmer before it became a necessity, sidestepping again in a beatific circle.
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
