Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
His fist swinging soon after hers had her reeling; not capable of evading it. Her eyes widened further when he offered advice, kindly, when it became clear she hadn’t been very adept. “Oh. That’s probably not the first time I’ve heard that,” and she blushed, striving to come back into the regular stance, thinking about her weight distribution.
There were so many things to think about that the latter hadn’t been a crucial part of it at all. Nodding, her eyes narrowed and her brows furrowed in avid concentration, preparing another swing, but trying to keep herself balanced, effectual, so that she wouldn’t be wide open for the next onslaught. This time the fist aimed for his shoulder was less rigid and unrefined, though clearly not much power behind it – never intending to do so. “Was that better?”
There were so many things to think about that the latter hadn’t been a crucial part of it at all. Nodding, her eyes narrowed and her brows furrowed in avid concentration, preparing another swing, but trying to keep herself balanced, effectual, so that she wouldn’t be wide open for the next onslaught. This time the fist aimed for his shoulder was less rigid and unrefined, though clearly not much power behind it – never intending to do so. “Was that better?”
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
