Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
Considering implications of impending wars, where she lived, and associations combined with stories, myths, and everything else, she could only snort at the notion. “Potentially,” came on a bright smile and hidden, shaking fingers, gliding them under the table. Maybe the grin overrode the anxiety and apprehension building in her gut too, as her eyes glanced downward for a moment, adjusting her veils, guarding and settling. “And what’s your name?”
Then there were multitudes of questions, as per awkward first dates (though – to be fair, she usually found out those things long before she and another went out - but these circumstances were bizarre at best). Her gaze widened for a moment, before she steeled herself for something impending. “I’m the Caretaker of the Celestine in Stormbreak.” A number of notions in one breath – but Lena was no liar. “I have a sister.” The woman’s smile softened then, overtly fond. “What about yourself?”
Then there were multitudes of questions, as per awkward first dates (though – to be fair, she usually found out those things long before she and another went out - but these circumstances were bizarre at best). Her gaze widened for a moment, before she steeled herself for something impending. “I’m the Caretaker of the Celestine in Stormbreak.” A number of notions in one breath – but Lena was no liar. “I have a sister.” The woman’s smile softened then, overtly fond. “What about yourself?”
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
