Melita walked a fine line between fervency and patience. She was overzealous, enraptured by every noise, every nuance, every reflection of color and movement emblazoned across her sharp, gilded eyes, but then at times, plodding, contemplative, staring out over remnants in careful perusal and study. Today was one of those illustrious hours where she wasn’t shouting or bellowing across the horizon, chasing after birds, racing against the stars – but instead, crouched within some long, lingering grass, staring at a honeybee.

She’d managed to watch it for a few minutes now, the way it coasted from flower to flower, and she’d tried to follow it as it hummed along, buzzing under her breath in effort to copy its wing gestures; until eventually she just buried herself in its path, totally enamored by the prospect of such creatures and their amazing abilities within the world.

Then, of course, this made her wonder what she was supposed to be doing. Adults were constantly rooting around their realm, healing, conspiring, practicing fights and mock duels – and the most she did was wander, explore, and ponder over the meaning of so many things. Was that enough?

Her head tilted at the sound of another close by, and she gave a soft, saddening sigh to the little honeybee, trumpeting a goodbye as she meandered off her chosen path, ears hastening to the motion of some other beast she didn’t recognize. As she grow closer, however, the cherub noted it was someone quite young (even smaller than herself!), and little Melita thought this was absolutely wonderful (already marking her as a future friend, ally, and comrade), and thundered again, little hooves beating a melodious drum against the grass, dirt, and soil. “Hi!” She yelled into streamlined world, not even remotely aware of the other girl’s fascination with something nearby, stare riveted solely on the burgundy frame and the massive, dark wings – wanting to stretch hers out too so they could look like almost a matching pair of silly youths carved from dragon lairs. “I’m Melita,” she bestowed with another sharp, jubilant trill, and when she finally realized the opposing child was still, staring off towards the shoreline for some reason, she simply asked. “What are you looking at?”

Melita

let me live that fantasy