Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
She laughed, a lovely, trilling thing, mellifluous and light, ethereal and airy, bits and pieces of song as the dragon explored her ear. Already taking advantage of the treats, she permitted the dragon to settle, humming all along as her hands instantly went to scratch, pet, and inspect; habitual movements from the Caretaker of the Celestine. “Have you had her long?” Her eyes ghosted over the leathery assemblage of ivory, the potential and prestige already enclosed in a small frame. Dragons, no matter the size, were something to be respected. “You must be a lovely companion,” she cooed, going to a pocket for more treats.
At the semblance of ice, her grin grew even broader. “And powerful too.” She’d known many with the aforementioned fire, and Levi had the inkling towards air control and composition. Her eyes glanced around, darting over the range of people – but it seemed too packed, too crowded, for an adequate showing. Likely too dangerous for others nearby, and she wouldn’t ask for the display in volleys of impending jeopardy. “What’s your favorite thing, hm?” A giggle followed, her attention completely and wholly focused on the dragon; Ronin entirely forgotten.
At the semblance of ice, her grin grew even broader. “And powerful too.” She’d known many with the aforementioned fire, and Levi had the inkling towards air control and composition. Her eyes glanced around, darting over the range of people – but it seemed too packed, too crowded, for an adequate showing. Likely too dangerous for others nearby, and she wouldn’t ask for the display in volleys of impending jeopardy. “What’s your favorite thing, hm?” A giggle followed, her attention completely and wholly focused on the dragon; Ronin entirely forgotten.
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
