MELITA
She hadn’t noticed the man in the branch, and ordinarily she might have been frustrated, irritated, annoyed by her senses not catching another; but she was deterred and distracted. The mud bounced and bounded in her hand, the more force she applied, the greater the arch, and she could’ve continued escalating into further tactics were it not for the stranger. Fangorn instantly growled and hissed the moment the individual hit the ground, and the girl remained where she was, crouched amongst the ether and earth, wondering if she should be readying her weapons. The blob of muck in her hands stilled too, as if waiting for something inevitable, fortuitous, ominous, or something otherwise.He was cheery, face and features blending into some childlike, then devilish demeanor; an attribute she could relate to. Slightly guarded, silent, motionless, she watched as he bent down to pick up one of the maneuvering portions of loam and silt, brows furrowing for a moment in speculation.
But then there were semblances of a game, and her own features suddenly warped into Cheshire grins and defiant, subversive tendencies, an upheaval in the making. “Sure.” The girl rose, wild and untamed, savage and feral within an instant, instincts of worse days rising to the brink of her flesh, her skin and bone, gilded eyes segmented on him. “What did you have in mind?”
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
