[se] the reign of doves

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

She didn’t fall for the flirtations before, and certainly wouldn’t now, save for a small smile. The actually was enough of an indication to know where his intentions had truly lain, and she remained poised and quiet as he began his explanation.

Only for her brows to furrow at the mentioning of his dragon, and her inability to fly. “No, that doesn’t sound it. I’ve known quite a few hatchlings and fledglings who try, even when sick or wounded.” It was a natural instinct for such an animal – to give into their primordial factions, predacious threads, and ability to overcome opponents, adversaries, and of course, prey. Adjusting her basket over her arm, she steeled herself. “May I see her?” Perhaps they could get to the bottom of the why, and then go from there.

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