MELITA
Melita didn’t expect to be joined in her vicious haze; burdened by the blight, by the stature of innocent beings, by the notion of savagery stoking and fanning the flames. But Jigano shifted, rampaging towards the sanction, as ignited as she, and somewhere she sighed some brindled breath of relief – And then more so as she advanced and saw the darkened rags, the bits of shadow, the whispers of smoke and plumes, Ludo arrived despite her every thought of the god abandoning her (maybe simply not answering, because she hadn’t deserved it). She lingered as her endeavors were brought to life, a slap on the wrist of a yeti, a lecture to Loren. Perhaps she should’ve given the Abandoned more of a chance to explain himself, but on the airs of vitriol, vehemence, and venom, there hadn’t been any thought to the measure. He should’ve known better. He should’ve understood. He should’ve been capable of fathoming to leave well enough alone. On her approach, she didn’t glance his way – eyes for Ludo, a bow, a bob of her head. “Thank you.” For hearing my call. For helping this creature. “Can anything be done for it?” And maybe not – and it would be free to wander, permitted to enjoy its freedom for however long it lasted. She’d rather take credence and advice from the deity, follow in its roots and stead, than cling to anything some of those nearby came up with.
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
