Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
Even in the herald and incomings of war, Lena hadn’t taken to carrying any armaments, much less practicing with them. Much more focused on healing, on ensuring some angles of Stormbreak were safe. Swallowing down the traces of bile suddenly bounding down her throat, her eyes roamed over at the log, and any other driftwood nearby. “Um, I could…throw things at you?” She winced and grimaced, but it was better than nothing – pelting rocks, sticks, shells, and the like probably wasn’t an ideal situation, yet, it could benefit the mer’s needs for training. Maybe she could configure some amount of accuracy through it all.
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
