Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
Lena hadn’t meant to make the other anxious; it was simply the nuances of her emotions, striving to keep everything steady when trepidation had run so rampant moments before. Perhaps it was a delightful thing when one was used to it, when they’d had it their entire life: the Caretaker could say the same about her wayward fox ability, though perhaps that was mundane by these standards. “I see,” she could only offer in return, fingers still trembling amidst one another.
But there were assurances and suggestions extended. The youth hesitated, her eyes glancing up towards the wryms, who’d seemed to have collected in and amongst one another, staring down at her sheepishly. But there was a sudden pressure and she didn’t like it – recoiled against the sentiments, the ruminations, as she shook her head. “I’m not sure if I’m up for it quite yet. But thank you for trying.” For asking this go around; and her gaze went towards her basket, left along the ground, scooping it up for something for her hands to wrap around and not shudder so much. “Maybe another time.”
But there were assurances and suggestions extended. The youth hesitated, her eyes glancing up towards the wryms, who’d seemed to have collected in and amongst one another, staring down at her sheepishly. But there was a sudden pressure and she didn’t like it – recoiled against the sentiments, the ruminations, as she shook her head. “I’m not sure if I’m up for it quite yet. But thank you for trying.” For asking this go around; and her gaze went towards her basket, left along the ground, scooping it up for something for her hands to wrap around and not shudder so much. “Maybe another time.”
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
