Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
It made sense that the griffin would enjoy the ichor, causing the youth to pause in thought as the buckets were collected, drawn back and forth again. “Hm. Could Fangorn try some?” The vampire gourd’s mere circumstance, existence, and namesake claimed some insurgency in the world – and though he’d never gone after anyone without Melita’s permission, he must’ve been missing a key nutrient in his diet. The companion, likely overhearing, bounded from his nest and came careening into the venue, vines askew, a hefty grumble ricocheting and reverberating forth, eager to try, but waiting for permission.
Otherwise, she was free to lean against the counter, biding their time until the life-force had been sufficiently drained, and they could continue on their cutting. She managed to snort at Sunjata’s comment, asinine because they both knew it was more than a few, and some part of her was a little disappointed she hadn’t gained more. What on earth had she been trying to accomplish anyway? “Pick one or two. We can come up with some crude nicknames.”
Otherwise, she was free to lean against the counter, biding their time until the life-force had been sufficiently drained, and they could continue on their cutting. She managed to snort at Sunjata’s comment, asinine because they both knew it was more than a few, and some part of her was a little disappointed she hadn’t gained more. What on earth had she been trying to accomplish anyway? “Pick one or two. We can come up with some crude nicknames.”
Melita
