hearts like wildflowers

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Clouds and mist, and through it all Lena laughed, merry, bright, without a touch of wickedness. Light mischief, perhaps, as she witnessed them dive and play, wholly intent on the morsels, as she shook her head, not remotely bothered by the labyrinthine quality the enclosure suddenly pulsed and pervaded. She could hear his chuckles from somewhere in the murk and mirth, wandering towards them in efforts to snag at another that required bandaging, and then the inquiry following.

“I am.” Proud, regal, and noble in her reply, fingers lightly ghosting over another wyrm as it wiggled in her grasp, turning back towards her with a gentle bump as she hastened the bandages between her teeth, pulling, grasping, and tearing before the buoyant youth escaped. And while she worked, her eyes wandered over the rest of the flock, the clutch, the gathered, the wryness of her smile likely lost in the fog. “What do we think of his work, dears?” A cooing of replies chirped back, ranging in all sorts of candid vocalizations, and then a following round of giggles ricocheted and reverberated through her form as she finished up with the one in her grasp. “They say you did fairly well. And to bring more paper.”

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all