MELITA
Reaching for another stick, the honeybee shoved down a molten multitude of disarming words, trying to settle herself for something better, something kinder, when everything else wanted to tumble out. Darkeye’s ignorance loomed wide, and even if there weren’t any monsters at all, even if a thousand people told him the same thing, it didn’t seem to matter. “You don’t have to prove yourself.” Who was asking him to? She shook her head, and the mass of wild, crimson locks flickered down along her sides, pieces and pockets of fire. “How would you dispatch them?” Sila sniffed at the meat though, allowing for a distraction as her long snout came poking out of the curtain of hair. Gently lowering the dragon to the ground, and with the vampire gourd’s protective stance also nearby, the hatchling maneuvered slowly, cautiously, along the sand.
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
