Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
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.
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
and never stops at all
