[se] stretched my hands out to the sky

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

Her brows pressed together in thought, considering the way the stranger described it. “Maybe they thought it was a last resort, and therefore, considered it forced.” That was all Lena had to consider, given the circumstances – eyes flickering upward as the clouds moved in and threatened rain. Snagging at her formed crown, modestly and mostly comprised of dried grasses, it would serve its purpose for another in Stormbreak; before placing it within her bag.

Rising from where she’d sat amidst the cliff’s rocks, she dusted off bits and pieces of the reeds and fragments of flower petals. “We can talk about it more at The Hanged Man, if you want,” she offered, pointing downward into the town, where the tavern stood amidst its colors and beaches, presuming they’d be sheltered and free from impending showers there.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm