[SE] and so much more

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

It took her more than a few moments of reflection to answer the coinciding question, images running through her mind, stilling her hand so the thoughts could collect in a more concise manner. “Kind. Accepting. Willing. Comforting.” When all was said and done, that was where Lena returned – to the support and guidance of a herald who understood the aspects of change were always going to occur – and how to adapt with it. “It definitely depends on the one you seek out though,” she glanced back in return, extending a light laugh.

Returning to her drawing and scrutinizing it a little, she sought out a green pencil next and snagged it close to the sketched rock. The inquiry didn’t take her by surprise though, and once she’d dashed off a few marks she didn’t care for, she lifted up the notebook to show. “No. Can you tell?” The airy laughter was a self-deprecating one; but she hadn’t had much time to practice in everything else occurring. Perhaps the last time she’d even picked up paints had been to detail dragons upon her sister’s lantern. “But I like to do it when I can – hold some memories together, you know?”

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

I can't control their fear, only my own.

The positive light she painted of Frey was an interesting contrast to Talyson's. His previous conversation had made the herald sound like a cruel, petty being. Perhaps it depended on the approaching person and their request. Lena didn't seem like the kind to ask for anything outrageous and Tal had admitted to making a poorly considered prayer. If her ever chose to call upon Frey, he would be sure to take caution. Giving Lena a warm smile, he said, "Hmmm... I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

As she turned her sketch towards him, he admired the colors and depth of detail. Not having seen much art except his own scribbles, Zavien didn't have anything to compare it to, but he thought it was a beautiful rendition of the Rainbow Road. Lena should give herself more credit. "Not at all. Mine would look like a gore crow got into the art supplies." His laugh shook his whole body against the stone at his back as he continued to take in the intricacies of her work.

The idea of capturing a moment was something he deeply related to and his mood sobered slightly. "I can understand that." He thought about how his mom's face was slowly fading from his memory. What shade had her eyes been? Did she have any beauty marks? How had her nose been shaped? None of the specifics came to mind. If he had a picture of her, would it change any of his sentiments? The only thing that Zavien would never forget was her bright smile and how it could lift the weight of any situation off their shoulders. She was sunshine in a bottle. He just hoped that he'd inherited even a drop.

Zavien wondered what memories came to Lena's mind when she said that. Had she lost someone too? Nowadays, it was hard to find a person who hadn't. Yet it didn't change the pain that came with the vacancy. Feeling saddened at the thought, he tried to let the warm sun instill a peace to soothe that ache.

Zavien

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Unaware of any other thoughts or notions about Frey, she simply smiled and nodded, scanning the horizon again and then selecting a light, lavender like hue from her bag. His responding laugh didn’t have any criticisms surrounding it, so she gave another wrinkle of her nose and returned to the drawing, beginning to make wider marks with the new pencil. “I doubt that. But I like your idea – I could make it an enrichment exercise for any of the corvids who come into the Celestine.” Casting larger brushstrokes, surveying them, tilting her head, and then shrugging, she figured she liked the image it created and persisted.

At his understanding, her gaze flickered back over to his, watching. There were other layers embedded there, beyond all the buoyant energy, but she wouldn’t pry. “You can try, if you’d like,” and she placed her notebook down for a moment, flipping through a few pages before ripping one away, holding it aloft for him to take, and maneuvering her bag over to share the charcoal and pencils.

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

I can't control their fear, only my own.

Zavien wasn't quite sure what the word 'corvids' meant and he narrowed his eyes slightly in confusion. With the context, he assumed it had to do with birds so he laughed heartily at the thought of a class of studious crows making art. "I'm not sure they would make very good students, contrary to their intelligence level." In his experience, they tended to be more mischievous and cunning, refusing to follow directions and preferring to pilfer shiny objects.

Her next offer had him smiling in preemptive embarrassment, but he reached for the page anyways. "Thank you." Zavien settled for rolling onto his side, propping his head on one hand to free his other for 'drawing' (if one could call it that). His teachers had tried to work with him on cleaning up his penmanship despite the futility, and art had been even worse. He'd never had many chances to practice, and the few times he did were riddled with frustration. They never turned out the way his eyes perceived the world. The yellows weren't bright enough and the smiles didn't feel genuine. So he opted for making random shapes and patterns, letting the colors overlap in abstract lines.

Letting the pencils scratch against the paper, he asked Lena, "Do you have a favorite drawing?" If she used it to capture memories, she probably chose pleasant moments and he was curious as to what caught the Attuned's eye.

Zavien

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

“The enrichment helps keep them occupied while they’re mending,” she mused, shrugging her shoulders. “They wouldn’t need to be good students anyway.” Though she could imagine she’d be compelling them to return the brushes and pencils instead. A thought for another day perhaps; as she watched a bird settle along another rock, and excitedly began to sketch out its brown feathers.

She hadn’t been certain if he’d take her up on the offer, but was all the more amused to see him striving regardless. The Caretaker watched for a few moments, head tilting to see what he was opting for, and when shapes appeared she left it at that, back to the privacy of his practice.

Following the figments of the bird’s plumage, and watching in turn as it dashed about, either inspecting the water or finding something that had caught its attention, she hadn’t anticipated his following question. “Oh. Hm.” Narrowing her gaze, striving to hold any particular fondness or favorites, she’d have to admit on a recent one. “I painted my sister’s dragon on her lantern. I think I got him right. That one would probably be my favorite.” She paused, and then aptly swallowed something down, before focusing once more on the parchment. “Do you?”

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

I can't control their fear, only my own.

Chuckling lightly, Zavien continued to think about painting crows as he scratched the pencils across the paper. Shapes and lines were being solidified in playful arcs of movement and color. It wasn't something he (or anyone else) would label as 'beautiful,' but he enjoyed the process and the unique visual it created. He could see why Lena did it.

Out of his peripheral, he noticed the bird that had caught her attention. The iridescent rainbow reflected lightly onto its brown feathers, making it an interesting art piece. Rather than try butchering the image on his own page, Zavien stared long at it, capturing the picture in his mind. It would fade with time, but his emotions wouldn't as the peaceful simplicity helped him take a moment and appreciate nature.

Apparently his question had struck a chord as he listened to Lena talk about her sister and their dragon. Zavien didn't miss the implication of the lantern, dipping his head in respect for her lost sibling. "That's beautiful. I'm sure she appreciated the effort." He gave her a soft smile of understanding, not wanting to push her on the sensitive subject that she may not want to discuss. Instead, he considered the return of his own question. Not being much of an artist, he didn't ever like to look at his own work. Lifting up his sheet and turning it all around, he gave her a playful smile. "I'd have to pick this one. It's my best one yet!" (Picture this or this) Turning to show her, he pretended to be very hopeful of a good review, giving her big innocent eyes. "What do you think?"

Zavien

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

The little bird addition made her picture more than just portions of a background, and she became more absorbed and amused with the details. Adding more onto its plumage as the real one pecked at the ground, she began to hum again lightly – using it as an opportunity to draw focus away from any further mentions of her sister. “Thank you,” came about instead, with a nearly imperceptible shrug, as if to take the sting out.

At the mention of his favorite, she turned her head, intending to glance at the manifested depictions – with the bright blotches of color and segments of movement, motion, and seemingly other random things. She grinned again, a little less weary and exceedingly polite, if a bit mischievous in between everything else. “Those are nice. You could hang them up in your home.”

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

I can't control their fear, only my own.

The humming and few words gave him a glimpse of her discomfort with the topic. Not wanting to further discuss it, Zavien focused on her voice and the familiar mannerisms of the avian. Her quiet tune lulled him again like a snake charmer with their flute. His eyes closed gently. All the aching of old memories and people lost floated into the breeze, lifting the mood.

Zavien laughed at her comment, glad to see her lightening up again. "I guess I could! But how could I not share such incredible art?!" He wiggled his eyebrows in suggestion and offered the scribbles to Lena. Before she could refuse, he graciously said, "Please, I insist." His smile stretched across his face playfully.

Satisfied with the art process, he returned to laying against the stones, hoping to hear more of her singing.

Zavien

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Still humming as she began the finishing touches, the bird eventually partook in everything the Rainbow Road could offer it, and flittered away. The Caretaker used that as a means to an end, finishing off the wings and glancing down at the picture with some amount of satisfaction. Given more ability and practice, it might’ve looked much more grandiose, but she was content with the assemblage of everything after not partaking in so long.

But then Zavien seemed to be offering his assortment of hues, and she arched her brow, eyes narrowing only slightly to take in the whole distinction. She could almost hear the challenge laden there, and while not typically one to rise to any bait, she tilted her head, as if an art curator or inspector amongst museums. “It should be signed by the artist, at the very least,” and she did the same on hers right after, swirls and loops on the bottom of the parchment, allowing the peak of a grin to show she absolutely meant it in the most charitable and ridiculous of ways. “We could trade,” and she extended hers out as well.

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

I can't control their fear, only my own.

Her close analysis of his work made him want to hide it under the water, where it would dissolve into mush for no one to see again. Zavien knew it wasn't great, but the way her eyes scanned each detail felt like she was peaking into his soul. So when she suggested he sign it, he jumped at the opportunity to put on a dramatic expression. "But of course! How else will people know who made such a masterpiece?" Taking it very seriously, he grabbed a pencil to immortalize his art with his scribbled jumble of a name. He even pulled away for a moment to scrutinize his work with the pencil to his mouth before nodding his head and making one final swipe.

Zavien then presented the work to Lena with an insistent expression. "I expect to see this hung in the Celestine next time I visit. After all, it will be worth a fortune one day." He couldn't contain the facade for more than a moment, laughing loudly at the idea of him ever being a famous artist. Maybe if everyone went blind.

When she offered hers in exchange, he almost felt bad. It wasn't a fair trade by any means, but he nodded and graciously accepted the page anyways. It was fascinating to see the world from her point of view. The way she focused on the feathers of the bird and the vibrant hues of each shade. Or how she somehow managed to depict the whole rainbow with only a few colors. Admiring it with genuine appreciation, pushing aside his playful demeanor for a second, he smiled at Lena. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Zavien

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

“Of course,” she honored with a bow of her head, using it as a moment to muffle the laughter threatening to burst over. “Right by the entrance for all to admire.” She didn’t make him promise to place hers anywhere, but the pretenses and arch of her brow towards her indicated artwork might have suggested otherwise. Only when he fell into chuckles did she do so; pleased by the sincerity of the nonsense. “You’re welcome.”

From there, they’d have another solid memory to hold, rather than any other notions of despair or nuances caused by the world around them. And perhaps Zavien’s artwork would be placed there, the next time he found himself within the Celestine.

{FIN}

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