MELITA
Freezing time was just as impressive to the honeybee child as controlling or contorting the earth. “Amazing!” She murmured, the excitement and enticement still there, a smile lilting on her face, waiting for anything else to be signified or happen. Out of the locked quarters of apprehension and consternation, her hold on Fangorn loosened, and the gourd grumbled his contentment, purring against her hands, asking for scratches. She didn’t expect him to become a segment of study, despite constant inquiries about him – mostly because they were seen as pests along autumn, an irritation threatening to gnaw at ankles and irritate the general public. “Fangorn was one of the last ones to survive a previous Leafchange.” She paused, applying the generous scratches across the top of his ghoulish head. “I offered him some food, and he stayed with me.”
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
