MELITA
To the honeybee’s surprise, the dragon accepted her inquiry, and within a moment the shell was in her hand – vibrant and beautiful, curled at the top, amber and sienna tones mixed in. It would’ve blended perfectly into the sand, never to be seen again until the waves lapped away the edges, in time, in space, in torrents and gales. With admiration slipping down over her features, no more frowns, no more drowned, guilty expressions, the girl’s empowering smile lit up towards the companion. “Thank you. You’re very kind.” Maeve’s words reached her a moment later, and she followed with a laugh – encouraged affections by the pieces of embers in her locks, by the flames embedded into his wings. “We’re both drawn to fire, aren’t we?” Very softly, politely, she reached up to scratch at the dragon’s forehead; if he was willing to oblige.Thereafter, they could part amicably, as he tore off to follow Fangorn, whose vines weren’t suitable for digging and trenching.
“He’s quite lovely,” she whispered in return to Maeve, as if the bonded wouldn’t be able to hear. She placed the banded tulip aside, to be collected into her bag, while her hands sifted and shifted more portions of earth, while the Madame passed her another for inspection – purple, like the sky at sunset. “King’s End is absolutely beautiful. Fertile fields, meadows upon meadows of wildflowers.” Several little bonnet shells, all ivory, manifested from a proportion, and she left them out for Maeve’s perusal too.
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
Give the bruises out like gifts
