MELITA
“Hmm,” she pondered out loud, thinking around a corner piece of croissant. “You could have round-the-clock guards,” and she laughed, knowing the notions were outlandish, absurd, and silly. Her legs began swinging again, barely brushing over the water, skimming over the fringes. “And then they can punish the pastry thieves.” Humming softly, allowing another giggle, her framework of thoughts led her down another path. “Do you have underwater dungeons?”At the inquiry of her home though, her eyes widened. No keeper of the light here, and certainly not Safrin’s, though she respected the goddess out of parallels for her own safety. “Oh, no. My uncle’s house was carved into the cliffs there. He left it, so I took it over.” She shrugged – no sense in leaving a home that had been only...partially burnt over the course of its years embedded into the rocks. “I work for Jack on the Ark.”
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
