Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
“Oh, that’s too bad.” A setback was a setback, after all, and her brows furrowed slightly at the implication, before thoughts churned elsewhere – always appealing, looking, towards brighter, better things. “But maybe having options for people would be beneficial? They can decide where they want to go, instead of just a singular place.” She hummed a little, hoping that suited everyone. “Did you decide where in the Feverlands?” The swamps themselves could have a massive impact.
As for preferences on patterns, she laughed and smiled. “Sure.” She kept her eyes peeled as her hands went through the row and racks of fabrics and choices, before pinpointing on one that resembled something like a panther, perhaps more sea-inclined. “What about this?”
As for preferences on patterns, she laughed and smiled. “Sure.” She kept her eyes peeled as her hands went through the row and racks of fabrics and choices, before pinpointing on one that resembled something like a panther, perhaps more sea-inclined. “What about this?”
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
