Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
Taking earnest sips of her lemonade, Lena was allowed to think on the subject matter, pausing momentarily to push her salad around in thought. She certainly hadn’t been everywhere, and given how difficult travel had been before skyports, had generally existed along the depths of Stormbreak’s stony walls with curiosity piquing and nothing to show for it. Eventually, with her winding need for supplies, exploration, and overall compunction for knowledge outside of a tome, she’d roamed in some places far more than others. “The Greatwood has some wonderful parts,” serene, even if one became a bit lost. Perhaps that was part of the beauty of it – requiring nothing more than birdsong and nature.
Further considerations mulled about it in her mind for fractions more. “Parts of Torchline are beyond beautiful too,” for they had no beaches to roam, no sand beneath their feet here – cliffs upon cliffs of sea breeze and then daunting heights below. “I think my favorite might be King’s End though.”
Further considerations mulled about it in her mind for fractions more. “Parts of Torchline are beyond beautiful too,” for they had no beaches to roam, no sand beneath their feet here – cliffs upon cliffs of sea breeze and then daunting heights below. “I think my favorite might be King’s End though.”
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
