Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
The sea breeze tickled her nose and curled around her locks, until she could do nothing more than peer along the edges and fringes of the cliffs, the crunch of the apple against her teeth muted against the roar and gusts of wind. Content with all of it, she might not have noticed the woman approaching, save for the movement of a hand from the corner of her eye.
She turned rapidly, not losing her bearings upon the rock, but much like a bird, either instantly wary, guarded, or eager to take flight. Friendly the stranger could’ve been, but the Caretaker didn’t know, or recognize, her outline. Even as she came closer, she couldn’t make out any familiarities, and she dropped the fruit away from her mouth, placing her hand in her lap, while the other gave a smaller wave. “I suppose not,” she gave in response, having no reason to refuse, and knowing she could escape or evade if need be. Portions of life had made her unfortunately apprehensive and nervous, but willing all the same. “Is there something on your mind?”
She turned rapidly, not losing her bearings upon the rock, but much like a bird, either instantly wary, guarded, or eager to take flight. Friendly the stranger could’ve been, but the Caretaker didn’t know, or recognize, her outline. Even as she came closer, she couldn’t make out any familiarities, and she dropped the fruit away from her mouth, placing her hand in her lap, while the other gave a smaller wave. “I suppose not,” she gave in response, having no reason to refuse, and knowing she could escape or evade if need be. Portions of life had made her unfortunately apprehensive and nervous, but willing all the same. “Is there something on your mind?”
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
