MELITA
Winter was one of the few seasons Melita wore anything on her feet – and the laden boots made small tracks as she continued to launch and leap her way along undergrowth, below canopies, laden with her armaments and teeming with possibilities. Fangorn bobbed and wove beside her, angling through dried sticks, reeds, and weeds, and both of them might’ve looked quite content – even if they hadn’t journeyed this far in a while. “You’re welcome,” the honeybee chirped in response, her gaze clambering along outlets and groves, catching the rays of light, watching them streamline their way to freshly fallen snow; sparkling in silhouettes of beautiful beams. She followed Aidon’s tracks, but strived not to muster any sound at all; gloved hands contentedly holding onto her staff.There were a myriad of questions on the tip of her tongue – why they were headed for the Greatwood, why her child wasn’t with her, but was distracted and deterred by the inquiry placed upon her frame instead. Her head turned over her shoulder, watching Fangorn breezily slip by and coax Aidon into some other game, a diligent, brightening nod flickering through. “Many times!” To the Ludo shrine within the deepening forest, to where they danced with nymphs, to where they saved the Undine, to where they ensured the Punking hadn’t made its mark upon the wood. “Just not this part.” Certainly not amidst the Sidhe Village; which was why her eyes were greedily taking everything in. “Are we looking for anything in particular?”
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
