Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
Lena hadn’t slept either, in the cruel wake of everything happening below. She could be relieved in aspects of Stormbreak, who’d suffered greatly before and hadn’t in this juncture, but gods, for those beyond –
Faith kept her grounded where everything else threatened to not, and she didn’t bother hiding her trembling hands as she met with the others. “The Celestine is fine too,” she murmured; having checked over the animals who’d been a little wide-eyed and restless from the echoes and shocks and images, but otherwise undisturbed. She jotted down the notes as well, penning it across the page to make herself feel somewhat useful. And by Everest’s presumptions, she still felt somewhat awful. Guilty. Ashamed, maybe. That they’d come out relatively unscathed and –
“What can we do to help? Should we send resources? Ourselves?”
Faith kept her grounded where everything else threatened to not, and she didn’t bother hiding her trembling hands as she met with the others. “The Celestine is fine too,” she murmured; having checked over the animals who’d been a little wide-eyed and restless from the echoes and shocks and images, but otherwise undisturbed. She jotted down the notes as well, penning it across the page to make herself feel somewhat useful. And by Everest’s presumptions, she still felt somewhat awful. Guilty. Ashamed, maybe. That they’d come out relatively unscathed and –
“What can we do to help? Should we send resources? Ourselves?”
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
