MELITA
They’ve apparently discovered quite a few things – and Melita absorbed it as best she could, flora, fauna, mutations, adaptations, the way that humans sometimes strived to prevail, and had to change themselves in order to survive a newer, harsher world. The girl could understand those notations – she’d done it twice already. She indicated so with a nod, a pondering look in her eye, different from the occasional irreverent multitudes, or sharpened sedition. This was thoughtful, forcing her to remain calm, muse, mull, instead of slide off into the ether, awaiting some other disastrous plunge. It made sense for the companions too – her gaze dropping to Fangorn once more, the one who’d endured – and how, why? Because he’d settled with her. Because he’d seen an opportunity and taken it, just as so many of them had. Rather than be slaughtered like the rest of his brethren, he’d hidden, tucked himself away, comprehended another method in the overall madness. “Do you think that’s what all of them have done? Like the little dragons, or luxere, that bond to others?” Needing another, just as much as their human required them?
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
