Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
There was no room to add in her reverence for Frey – they had been the god to grant her occupation, her gifts, her talents and all – but perhaps that was for the best. She sidled away, backing off, as more came to demonstrate and proclaim over the sapling, and she wrote down several other notes as people wandered and strived for themselves. Perhaps it’d be an inquiry for the god the next moment she found time for her devotion and prayers, segmenting it all within the notebook, before closing it entirely, and placing her tools and instruments back into the basket.
Then her full attention could be rendered upon Ronin of the Dragoons. Lena’s brows furrowed for a moment, curling back into thoughts, memories, distinct things before she’d run out of her apartment, days before. “Oh! I believe my sister was going to train with them as well. She recently acquired her own dragon companion.” Then she beamed, a pleasant, ethereal smile again, eager and willing to wax poetical on her sibling, if he’d heard of her at all. Her eyes went briefly to his mulled wine, the notions of a break (she rarely took one), and then shrugged, the grin still in place. “I’m the Caretaker of the Celestine.”
Then her full attention could be rendered upon Ronin of the Dragoons. Lena’s brows furrowed for a moment, curling back into thoughts, memories, distinct things before she’d run out of her apartment, days before. “Oh! I believe my sister was going to train with them as well. She recently acquired her own dragon companion.” Then she beamed, a pleasant, ethereal smile again, eager and willing to wax poetical on her sibling, if he’d heard of her at all. Her eyes went briefly to his mulled wine, the notions of a break (she rarely took one), and then shrugged, the grin still in place. “I’m the Caretaker of the Celestine.”
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
