Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
Fangorn made a very hesitant approach – an olive branch of sorts – with an extension of his vines, vibrant and lively, as if by a handshake or something of that nature. Melita remained very still, hands on her hips, save for the palm occupied by the staff, tilting her head to listen to Seren’s explanation. “There’s always something new to learn. Fangorn had to be taught not to bite people,” with a shrug of her shoulders; normal companion behavior when it came to predators. “I know it’s in their nature, but not if they’re going to be tied to us.” Was that wrong – to force their morals upon the animals bonded to them? The honeybee couldn’t be certain, only striving to do something that felt right.
The subject returning to Ludo and Safrin gave her an adequate pause, still not maneuvering until dragon and pumpkin had become better acquainted. “I don’t know. Has she ever said anything about it to you?” Do goddesses discuss their likes and dislikes with their daughters? “Or would she be angry if you mentioned Ludo at all?” Not wanting it to be a testy subject for the girl.
The subject returning to Ludo and Safrin gave her an adequate pause, still not maneuvering until dragon and pumpkin had become better acquainted. “I don’t know. Has she ever said anything about it to you?” Do goddesses discuss their likes and dislikes with their daughters? “Or would she be angry if you mentioned Ludo at all?” Not wanting it to be a testy subject for the girl.
I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
