MELITA
But they couldn’t – they just couldn’t manage to wander off and permit the poor creature to lumber back into the abyss. Was it curiosity, stoking, clambering, soaking into their sights, their spirits, so they couldn’t fathom how this was wrong? The snow monster was no Undine, dying before their eyes. The snow monster was not a massive flinthopper, destroying the forest around it. It was simply an enormous, maneuvering piece of snow that hadn’t done anything to anyone.Her rage quietly kindled beneath her veins, pervading, pumping, and persisting through her blood. Fangorn growled at her side, perhaps a warning, perhaps encouraging, and she stalked only a little bit forward, not chasing after Loren and his ridiculous campaign across the snow, beheld by some other monster. “Leave it alone!” She shouted across the snow, not the blight talking but her, her beliefs, her motives, her agendas, defending something that likely had no thoughts or feelings, but deserved better than this lot. As Loren’s hands reached for the amulet though, a sort of abhorrence and wrath settled over her, and if she were a carnivore fangs would’ve orchestrated their way past her lips and mouth, her hackles would’ve raised, her claws would’ve been known, apparent, and ready. But she wasn’t – just a girl, just an angry, infuriated girl.
“That’s not yours!” The youth screamed and howled, a bellow resounding in her chest, aching across the void. She was too far away to do much of anything except holler; but the irritation, exasperation, helplessness flooding through her was enough to prompt something else altogether.
And though the god hadn’t answered her latest pleas (because maybe she was a monster), her whispers, her thoughts, her feelings, were still immersed and entangled into the snow. Ludo, she pulsed, can you stop him?
--
Oops. Melita got mad and channeled Ludo.
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
