Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
The journey to the desert was a long one, but through the multitudes of skyports, helpful, passing merchants, caravans, and walking, the young Caretaker eventually made it to her destination. Along the way, the sights and sounds of the flora, the fauna, had given her ample time to observe, to cast notes into her journals for future use in the Celestine, and presided as distractions from the monumental weight of loss, sitting right in between her ribs.
It was dusk by the time she made it to the pools, stifling down the urge to retch at the distinct odor; pattern and walk distinct so that she might not disturb any lurking landsharks below. Perhaps she’d be able to coax them elsewhere, if worst came to worst, but she hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
The starlit well stood out from the sand and dunes, from the rippling pools cast in eerie moonlight and piercing hues. Clutching at her bag, she opened the satchel, revealing several jars of water that had made the sojourn with her, and beginning to loosen the lid of the first.
It was dusk by the time she made it to the pools, stifling down the urge to retch at the distinct odor; pattern and walk distinct so that she might not disturb any lurking landsharks below. Perhaps she’d be able to coax them elsewhere, if worst came to worst, but she hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
The starlit well stood out from the sand and dunes, from the rippling pools cast in eerie moonlight and piercing hues. Clutching at her bag, she opened the satchel, revealing several jars of water that had made the sojourn with her, and beginning to loosen the lid of the first.
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
