[se] the reign of doves

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

To say Lena was surprised at the other voice near her was an understatement – Mittens too, based on the snowball’s sudden hissing and wretched little faces contorting around stone. Too absorbed in the admiration of stonework and jewel adornments, her eyes widened into round slits, and if she looked a little jumpy, that was to be expected.

But the Caretaker recovered quickly, maybe pretending it hadn’t happened, and only yanking Mittens back gently, gracefully, artfully. “Yes. They’re quite splendid.” It took her a moment of recognition – having seen the youth’s face once or twice when tending some of the dragon’s amidst Anju’s trainings. “I was hoping they’d be able to craft something for me.” Her grin brightened, less apprehension flickering through her blood now. “Are you here for the same?”

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all