I think I thought I saw you try

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

Though she had absolutely no idea of what conversation was occurring between the gourds, she tilted her head and studied it for a lengthy while, finding time to glance at her fox guide with an arched brow and an indulgent shrug. At least Fangorn’s prowess reached over into politics and diplomacy, not just an insect devourer and killer, and before long, the rest of the gourd horde seemed to roll off – hastening in retreat. Melita laughed, not overly loud, remembering they were on a hunt, suddenly, as if the notion hadn’t been clear from the very beginning, folding her arms over her chest, a radiant, reverent smile for her companion on her lips. “Well, well, what do we have here?” The pumpkin managed to look quite pleased with himself, putting on a more debonair air, puffing out, strutting onwards as if he were a mighty warrior. Melita didn’t bother to hide rolling her eyes, but leaned down, scratching him along the top of his head. The cucumber, however, seemed to have other ideas, not responding to any semblance of authority from the bonded gourd. She hadn’t even really bothered with the notion of its existence, too distracted by the others, until a sudden biting rasp clenched over her shin, piercing into her skin. She hissed, an audible sound that might’ve reflected Fangorn’s usual decibels, hand reaching down to the top of the fruit’s head, and then tossing it in one glorious ascent, hoping to hear the wake of its crash in the distance. “How dumb,” she muttered to herself, directed solely at her own performance, so tired of her constant mistakes and errors as of late, sighing and wiping at the blood welling up along her flesh. M e l i t a But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power I'll find a way to be without you, babe