MELITA
A feral sigh unfurled through her, jaw clenched, teeth biting down on their brethren. A strangled sort of hiss followed, with a shake of her head and a rolling of her eyes, frustration apparent in Darkeye’s dumbassery – she’d only been here for a gods damned vine, not this level of stupidity. “Yes, it’s really me, Darkeye.” Another huff flickered through, as it to rally the formidable nature of her existence. “Honestly, you’re the one inviting the fight.” And lucky she hadn't launched any of her arrows in his direction.She motioned to Sila again, because if the man didn’t want to step out or talk other than hide and lurk amidst the trees, the youth wasn’t in the mood for bantering over waves of greenery and idiocy. Cautiously, the little dragon unfurled her wings again, making way for the same timber she’d landed upon earlier, intending to snag at the sentient flora.
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
