// think of the sun that shaped them //
While Mittens accepted the jerky in a quick show of rapacious and ice-fanged teeth, Lena concentrated on all the other efforts. Amused by Sol’s reaction, and sure the dragonling would probably grow into all that might and confidence, the next set of directions had her paying utmost attention. Strides swift and sure while her arms were full of bedding materials, she followed along, with a slight arch to her brow in the beckoning notions of alternating pathways away from the Plaza, and straight towards Zavien’s home.
She wasn’t certain what her expectations would’ve been on the abode – but the moment they all came to the threshold, it seemed quite fitting. Warmth, without the necessity and trimmings and fixings, just as the Dragoon never gave over any pretenses. “It’s lovely,” she hummed. Content, Lena grinned, blinking rapidly through the quick tour, gaze taking in everything with rapt curiosity and tugging on Mittens should the companion strive and try to make a menace of itself in any given room. It might’ve spurned the idea of getting her own home, rather than always inviting others to the Celestine. As long as she could find somewhere nowhere near the Tower…
But then the tasks were read out and she eventually found herself in Zavien’s room, hands still full of the blankets. Which kept her from nervously and restlessly twitching at her fingers. “Right,” she whispered to the abominable snowball, who was already gliding around as if it owned the place, sniffing at the pillows. “Where would a good place be…,” and then she had to urge her bonded away, before heaving a sigh.
Contemplating the necessities, and her notions of animal knowledge, the probabilities lingered at the foot of the bed, or nestled nearby. She figured the comfort would extend regardless as long as they were near one another, and began to make a nest of the materials off to the side, close enough for either to be untroubled and at peace.
--
Lena makes a nest of the blankets for Sol!
She wasn’t certain what her expectations would’ve been on the abode – but the moment they all came to the threshold, it seemed quite fitting. Warmth, without the necessity and trimmings and fixings, just as the Dragoon never gave over any pretenses. “It’s lovely,” she hummed. Content, Lena grinned, blinking rapidly through the quick tour, gaze taking in everything with rapt curiosity and tugging on Mittens should the companion strive and try to make a menace of itself in any given room. It might’ve spurned the idea of getting her own home, rather than always inviting others to the Celestine. As long as she could find somewhere nowhere near the Tower…
But then the tasks were read out and she eventually found herself in Zavien’s room, hands still full of the blankets. Which kept her from nervously and restlessly twitching at her fingers. “Right,” she whispered to the abominable snowball, who was already gliding around as if it owned the place, sniffing at the pillows. “Where would a good place be…,” and then she had to urge her bonded away, before heaving a sigh.
Contemplating the necessities, and her notions of animal knowledge, the probabilities lingered at the foot of the bed, or nestled nearby. She figured the comfort would extend regardless as long as they were near one another, and began to make a nest of the materials off to the side, close enough for either to be untroubled and at peace.
--
Lena makes a nest of the blankets for Sol!
Lena
// the speck of truth that's ours //
